The Diamond Rose Glass
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Sephiroth never likes to become involved in his enemy's problems. But when his enemy's problems suddenly become his own, the web of deceit keeps growing taut around him and the others. Twilight and Dawn verse.
1. The Email

**Final Fantasy VII**

**The Diamond Rose Glass**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: The characters from the games are not mine. Dalton, the Rakesh brothers, and all other OCs are mine, as well as the story. This takes place between **_**Weep Not for the Memories**_** and **_**Good Luck and Goodbye**_**, and began as a way to explain what happened to Dalton when he vanished in the former story. A mystery dream I had inspired most of the rest of the basic plot. The above stories do not need to be read for understanding of this one. It takes place in my **_**Twilight and Dawn**_** verse after **_**Dirge of Cerberus**_**. Sephiroth is sane again and they're on Earth. (And I've actually seen a park with the . . . unique monument that the park has in the first chapter.) Many thanks to Kaze, Lisa, Crystal Rose of Pollux, and anyone else who has helped with the plot!**

* * *

**Chapter One**

The sound of the keyboard echoed through the otherwise silent office. With efficient, rapid clicks, the document was being brought to a close.

At last the typist leaned back, removing his reading glasses. Tired green eyes looked towards the panoramic view of the city through the window. Evening had fallen some time ago, the last rays of twilight fading into night while the other buildings' lights illuminated the darkness. Their silhouettes cast varied black shapes against the sky.

A slight motion seen out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn and look towards the green couch. Cloud had been looking over paperwork for a while. Somewhere during the time the silver-haired man had been typing, Cloud had fallen asleep. Now he was laying on his back, the folder open on his chest. It rose and fell as he breathed, the pages rustling.

A vague smirk crossed the other's features before it faded. They were all so exhausted.

It had not been that long ago when Zack had tumbled over a cliff with their enemy Dalton. For days Sephiroth, Cloud, and the others had searched diligently to find him, but to no avail. Even though Sephiroth had not given up hope, it had been hard not to fear the worst. To even consider that Zack was lost to them was too much to bear, yet it had seemed the truth.

But then Zack had returned--cold and weak and stumbling down the mountain, yet alive. To even try to describe what Sephiroth and the others had felt at that moment was nigh to impossible. So many emotions had overwhelmed them all when they had seen Zack struggling to get over to them. They had already lost Zack before, when he had perished saving Cloud. Sephiroth had deliberately pushed Zack away from him before that, when he had lost his mind at Nibelheim. And now that he was sane again, he had been Zack's close friend once more. He had gone out to meet Zack, hugging him close when Zack had embraced him. His heart had been full.

Zack was recovering steadily, much to his friends' joy and relief. He would not suffer any lingering ill effects from the fall.

But he did not remember what had happened to Dalton. The man largely responsible for Zack's spill had not been seen or heard of since then. The Rakesh brothers had continued to search for him, without success as far as anyone knew. By all indications, he had plunged into the frozen current and had been killed over the waterfall.

Sephiroth was not certain he believed it. Zack was safe. What if someone had found Dalton too? Or maybe Dalton was deliberately in hiding. Though it did not seem that he would turn against the Rakeshes. Maybe they were hiding him. Maybe for some reason, they wanted Dalton to be thought dead by most people. It could be part of some new scheme they were plotting.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. He could not deny that some part of him would be relieved if Dalton would not be able to hurt them anymore. But at the same time, he did not want even that man to suffer a painful death. He could not forget the utter horror and dread when he and the others had wondered if Zack had crashed into the jagged rocks at the bottom of the waterfall. That would be a sickening death for anyone.

He stared at the computer screen. There had certainly not been a lack of work to be done during the current two weeks of Zack's recovery. Sephiroth, Cloud, and Angeal had taken on more of the load, and Zack's secretary was doing her best to keep the promotions department afloat. Zack insisted on doing whatever he could, and had been having Seph and the others bring work from the company so he could take care of it at home.

Now Sephiroth looked back to Cloud. The blond was still sound asleep. He turned his head to the side, a low snore issuing from his lips. The smirk crossed Sephiroth's features again.

He turned back to the computer, switching to the browser window. It had been a while since he had gone through the emails received for the company. There were several more that had arrived by now. Dalton often sent messages to taunt his hated enemy, though today there was nothing from him, of course. But there was instead an email that did not look familiar. Sephiroth frowned. How did strangers keep finding his email address? It was supposed to be private. Bringing the cursor over to the link, he clicked.

The message that loaded was not pleasing.

_Mr. Sephiroth, sir, I know you don't know me, but I work in one of the departments at Jenova Corp._

_Recently I've found out about some illegal activities going on right under our noses. I know you wouldn't_

_be involved in it, so you must not be aware of it. But I don't want to say too much through email; _

_this could be intercepted. Please call me so we can arrange a meeting to discuss it._

What followed was the person's cellphone number. There was not a name or even the department where the sender worked.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. There had not been any illegal activities at Jenova Corp since the embezzler a while back. But this did not sound like a joke. And there was still the matter of how his email address had been gained. An employee at the company would be able to find it out. He had better try calling the number, at least. If he was being told the truth, then something needed to be done. He would not tolerate Jenova Corp being used by criminals.

With another glance at Cloud, he swerved his chair to face the window. Drawing out his cellphone, he tapped in the number from the email and brought the phone to his ear to wait. It rang once, twice. . . . After the fifth ring, he was ready to hang up. Maybe it was a prank after all. Or maybe the person did not currently have access to the phone.

A click.

"Hello?" The voice was muffled. It sounded feminine, but it was hard to tell for certain.

Sephiroth kept his voice lowered as he spoke, not wanting to awaken Cloud. "This is Sephiroth, the company president of Jenova Corp," he said. "I received a message informing me to call this number."

"Oh!" The person sounded both relieved and worried at the same time. "Mr. Sephiroth, sir, I must speak with you, as I said. But it can't be on the phone, either."

"Then come to my office," Sephiroth said.

"I'm afraid they'll see me going there, sir," was the apologetic response. "I'm at my home, but some of them may still be at the company building. Can't we meet somewhere else?"

Sephiroth grunted. "There's a park near the edge of the business district," he said. "Is that agreeable?"

"Yes, sir. But can you pick the exact spot in it, too? I don't want them to hear a thing about where I'm going. I don't know what might be bugged or if I even might have been followed home."

Either the employee was paranoid or this was very serious. Sephiroth leaned back. "Within twenty minutes I'll be waiting in the east parking lot under a street lamp," he said. The only reason he knew of the park's layout was because he had been present once or twice when Marlene had wanted to go ice-skating. Sephiroth had never engaged in it himself, of course, but he had taken her there.

"Thank you, sir!" The relief in the voice was evident. But a click followed these words. The call had been ended--hopefully by her and not by whoever might be following her.

Sephiroth closed the phone, easing himself out of his chair. This was very odd. But her concern and worry had been genuine. She believed something was amiss, whether or not it actually was the case. He would have to leave immediately to make it to the park first.

He turned back to the computer, clicking the word processor. After saving his document, he closed the program and selected Shut Down from the Start menu. Once the computer was at work accomplishing the task, he walked past to the door.

Cloud stirred, blinking sleep-filled eyes at his friend. "Where are you going?" he mumbled.

"To the park," Sephiroth grunted. "I won't be long."

"Okay." Cloud shifted position, beginning to doze again.

Sephiroth allowed a bit of amusement to creep onto his features as he took up his coat from the other couch. If Cloud had really been awake at all, he would have wondered what on earth Sephiroth was doing going to a park on a cold winter's night. He still wondered that a bit himself.

Slipping his arms into the coat sleeves, he pulled the black cloth around his body. It felt warm and familiar after all these years. He had had many coats made to look like it, since it had been his favorite thing to wear. And it still held that position. He hooked the belt at the waist, heading out the door. Behind him, Cloud had fully sunk back into sleep.

* * *

It was an especially biting night. The sky was clear, revealing the stars twinkling in its midst. They shined on the snow covering the ground, adding new sparkle to the ice crystals. As Sephiroth stepped out of the limousine after parking in the east parking lot, he could see his breath in the air. But he had never been a slave to the cold. Ignoring the chill, he walked to the lamppost by which he had located his car. It had almost been twenty minutes now. The employee should be coming before long.

Yet after ten minutes he was still alone. A frown crossed his features. It was doubtful that she would have gotten sidetracked. Had her enemies caught up with her? Or maybe she was just wandering the park in confusion, unable to find the right spot. He drew out his cellphone, pressing the redial button to contact her again. The ringing continued to echo in his ears. No one answered. Frowning more, he ended the call attempt and placed the cellphone in his pocket.

He would wait a few more minutes and then look through the park, just in case she did not realize which was the east parking lot.

Perhaps in spite of his surety of her sincere nature, he had been wrong. Maybe this was an elaborate practical joke. He would have to hope that she was not really an employee of Jenova Corp in that case. It would be serious grounds for firing her. No one had the right to play a joke on him unless they knew him very well, and even then, he would hope that they would have enough courtesy not to waste his time. This was extremely unfunny.

Five more minutes passed. The disgruntled businessman turned, making his way to the cleared walk. Hopefully she would be somewhere on the path. He did not have his boots with him, and snow gathering in his dress shoes was not a pleasant prospect.

The park was empty and silent, save for himself. Without any breeze, even the trees were still. For most it would be eerie and unsettling, perhaps almost like a cemetery. (There was actually reportedly someone buried in the park, one of the early settlers of the town, though Sephiroth had never bothered to look up the location of their tombstone.) But Sephiroth had faced far worse than a lonely spot of snow and trees--most of which were hibernating. There was little that could frighten him anymore--not that much ever had.

Though his one worst fear had been his destruction in the end. And not only his, but many others', as well.

That would never happen again.

He had accepted what he was; having Jenova's cells in his body did not make him a monster. He had made that out of himself by his own actions. But now, after everything . . . he was just a man. Just a tired, determined man wishing to live out his life with his friends. They were what made his life meaningful and rich.

What was that, laying off to the side in the snow? His eyes narrowed as he turned for a better look. No one in their right minds would be sprawled like that for the fun of it. His dress shoes forgotten, he plowed into the white. It was definitely a body, sprawled over a slab embedded in the ground. A thick coat and a hat prevented much about the person from being seen. Two sets of footprints were leading away from the form. At the side, a purse's contents were strewn every which way--minus the wallet. It looked like a random mugging.

Sephiroth bent down, pulling off his left glove to touch his fingers to the neck. A weak pulse throbbed, the indication of continuing life. He dug into his pocket for his cellphone.

The body recoiled from his touch. Feminine eyes flew open, focusing on the man crouched beside her. The bleeding lips parted.

"Mr. Sephiroth . . . sir. . . ."

It was the same voice from the telephone, as he had feared. He looked to her, his finger poised to dial nine-one-one.

"They came . . ." she whispered.

"Who is 'they'?" he demanded.

"Smugglers," she choked out. Her eyes fell shut again, her body going limp. The weak breath continued to rasp out of her beaten body, but it was slowing. There was no time to process her words. Immediately he tapped out the desired number, placing the phone to his ear.

"Send an ambulance to the Domino City Park," he ordered as soon the dispatcher answered. "A woman's been badly beaten."

"Which part of the park?" the dispatcher asked.

Underneath her body, Sephiroth could just make out some of the writing on the slab.

_Died: 1888_

"The East side. . . . She's laying on top of the monument to whomever is buried here," he replied.


	2. The Secretary

**Chapter Two**

Cloud was awake by the time Sephiroth returned to the office. He was sitting up on the couch, leaning against the plush backing as he went through the rest of the file's contents. As the door opened, he raised blue eyes to meet Sephiroth's irritated green gaze.

"Where were you?" he asked.

Sephiroth grunted. "I informed you before I left that I was going to the park, but you promptly went back to sleep afterwards," he said.

"The park?" Cloud lifted an eyebrow. "What would you want there? You're pretty big for the swingset."

Sephiroth ignored his friend's sarcasm. "A woman from one of our departments informed me through email that something illegal is taking place here at the company," he said, removing his gloves. "I went to meet her at the park because she would only talk about it in person, and she didn't want to come here for fear of being seen. Unfortunately, the criminals still got to her first."

Now Cloud's eyes narrowed. "She's dead?"

"Badly beaten. They tried to make it look like a mugging." Sephiroth sank into his chair, still wearing his coat. "All she managed to tell me was 'Smugglers.'"

Cloud set the folder aside, leaning forward. "So someone's doping up thanks to stuff found in our shipments?" he said, a bit of anger flashing through his eyes.

"I don't know what kind of smugglers they are, or even whether they're sending or receiving these shipments." Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "And they took the woman's identification. Right now I don't have any idea who she is."

"And you'll have to go through the records of everybody in every department?" The very thought made Cloud's stomach drop. It was already so late. If they began such a monumental task, they could be here until dawn. Angeal had already gone home to help with things there. Other than Cloud and Sephiroth, the only people who should be in the building by now were the security guards and the janitors.

. . . Though that employee had not wanted to come to Sephiroth's and Cloud's office because she had been afraid that she would be seen. Was that only because she believed she had been followed, or had she thought the smugglers were still in the building? Maybe one of the security guards or janitors was involved in the plot. They would let the other crooked workers carry on with their work at night and not report them. Even if the others were not currently at Jenova Corp, such a contact as a sentry or a cleaning person could easily see the honest employee enter and prevent her from getting to Sephiroth. Obviously someone had already done that.

". . . I'll need to start," Sephiroth said at last. He was already booting up the computer. "Luckily, the master computer at home also has the information. We won't have to stay here all night."

Cloud stood up, stretching to get the cricks out of his back before moving to his own desk and computer. "I'll help," he said, pressing the button on the hard drive. "But what if these creeps have already erased her from the database?"

Sephiroth had certainly considered the possibility. And it only served to make him further annoyed. "Then we'll have to wait until she can tell us who she is," he said.

"And hope she doesn't get amnesia," Cloud muttered.

A pause. "That isn't funny."

"It's not trying to be," was the answer.

* * *

The room was dim, lit only by a bare bulb of low wattage hanging from the ceiling. It was also sparsely furnished, consisting of little more than a cheap bed with a nightstand to the side. There was not even a window.

The sole sentient occupant was sitting on the cot, leaning forward to examine the contents of a crate. It appeared to be nothing other than a standard shipment of state-of-the-art two-way radios. A confused frown graced the man's features. Lifting out one of the devices, he removed the battery cover. Glittering gems caught the thin rays of light. They were nestled inside the space where the batteries would go.

"How intriguing," he mused. "So this is how they've been smuggling precious stones into and out of the country. I wonder if they have any amethysts?" Which was quite a random thought. Why would he specially care about amethysts?

And he continued to say "they", even though they had informed him that he sanctioned the operation. His company was supposedly the perfect front.

But he did not feel greed as he studied these gems; there was only a vague interest, and somewhere inside, annoyance and anger. He did not like that his company was being used in this way. There was no purpose in it for him. His goals were much more vast and great . . . whatever they were. He remembered that much.

He pushed his glasses up as they slipped down again. The simple fact was, he did not trust these people. They claimed to have rescued him when a cruel man from their rival company Jenova Corp had pushed him over the edge of a cliff. Somehow that did not sound right in his mind. And they also said that he was the president of their own company, Fragmented Triangle. He believed that, but from the way these people acted it seemed as if they had told him solely to manipulate him. They wanted to make him believe that he wanted this operation to continue, because otherwise they knew he would try to stop them.

And he would much prefer to stop them. But there was little he could do in here, which was where they were keeping him "so that Jenova Corp would think him dead." More likely it was another level of their manipulation. They would keep him where he had no knowledge of what was really happening, and when they no longer needed him, they would kill him for real.

He was going to have to escape. He had known it for some time, but previously he had not been strong enough to try. It would be different tonight. He had been gathering his energy all day for the occasion.

The door opened. A tall, muscular man was standing in the doorway, regarding the scene with satisfaction. "How does this meet your approval, sir?" he asked, with thinly-veiled politeness. He was one of the masterminds behind the operation, though not the one claiming to be second-in-command. But of all the unsavory people, this one was among the least trustworthy.

The bespectacled man rose, slipping the battery cover back on the communication device. "It's really quite ingenious," he replied, playing up the act he had been putting on since awakening to this farce. "I'm impressed with your abilities to carry out my past orders. In my current state, I'm really not in any condition to help you at all."

"Not a problem, sir," the smuggler answered, stepping further into the room. He was so tall that he was in danger of bumping his blond crew-cut against the dangling lightbulb. "You gave your orders so good that we didn't need to go over anything again."

"How refreshing to hear," said the first, depositing the walkie-talkie into his pocket. "Then my services really aren't needed, are they, good sir?"

Before the other could respond, a fist connected with his jaw. The blond stumbled, crashing back against the wall. As he slipped dazedly to the floor, his attacker ran past into the hallway, pulling the door shut after him. He would lock it for good measure. Not that it would really keep such a strong man away for long; it could easily be broken in.

His gaze darted up and down the hallways. For now they were empty. He would not declare himself free until he ran out into the night air, but it was a start. Picking a path, he began to run.

* * *

Zack was reclining on one of the soft couches in the living room, his arm stretched out on the top of the furniture. He stared off at the open window, looking at the vacant house across the street without really seeing it. He was troubled tonight. Once again, Seph and Cloud had not made it home in time for dinner with the rest of the family. Aerith was keeping their shares warm in the oven.

What bothered him was that it was taking so much longer for them at Jenova Corp lately because he was not there to help with the workflow. Doing some stuff at home did not get all that much accomplished in the big picture. They were swamped, and Zack was stuck at home because of that spill over the cliff.

He was really okay; the worst was mending. He had been extraordinarily lucky in the fall. Other than some bad cuts and bruises, there was nothing wrong. No broken bones, or anything that would require a lot of physical therapy, or anything else serious. He had said it was probably the old SOLDIER reflexes that had saved him. Aerith insisted that while it was probably that, too, it was also a miracle.

Well, miracle or not, he was ready to get going. When Seph and Cloud got back, he was going to announce that he was going in to work tomorrow. And he would not take No for an answer!

A light flashing across the street brought his attention back to the present. What was that? It had looked like it was coming from inside the vacant place. No cars had come down the street, so it could not have been a reflection from someone's headlights. Now it was gone. Wait . . . there it was again, in an upstairs window this time. Before, it had looked like it was in the living room on the main floor.

Frowning, Zack swung his legs over the side of the couch as he began to push himself upright. He reached for the lamp as he went, switching it off. Then he made his way to the overhead light switch, flipping it off as well. Now that it was pitch black, he went over to the window. All was dark again.

But he had not been seeing things. He knew it! So what was going on? There should not be anything in there worth stealing. The previous owners had cleared out a month ago. They had been loading stuff into a big moving van for hours. And the For Sale sign had come down when someone had bought the place. Most likely one of those investors, since nobody had moved in since. What was weird now was that there was no car parked over there. Zack had been in the living room for ages, doing work at first, then playing a game with Marlene and Denzel, and he had come back again after dinner. It had been the same each time--no cars or people around. Yet there had been a light.

"Goodness, what are you doing in the dark?"

He whirled at Aerith's voice. She was standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the doorframe. With the light at her back her expression was not visible, but Zack did not have to see it to know she was puzzled.

"There's somebody over at the vacant place!" he said, pointing out the window. "I saw a light over there a couple of times."

She walked into the room. "It's probably just the man who bought it," she told him. "He's been over there several times this week."

"Yeah, but he always has his car!" Zack protested. "He doesn't seem to live close by. And there hasn't been any car there all day!"

"My, you've been busy today," she said, shaking her head. Reaching for the switch, she turned it back on. "That's better," she declared with a smile, as light flooded the room.

Zack sighed. There would probably not be any more lights over there. Maybe the person had even seen Zack switching the lights off here and had realized he was watching. He grabbed the dangling rope, pulling on it to close the curtains.

"Do you think someone might be trying to rob the house?" Aerith asked, seeing that he was still concerned.

"I wondered," Zack admitted, "but I don't know what there'd be to steal!" He threw his hands in the air in helplessness.

Aerith frowned. "Maybe we should call the police," she suggested. "It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Yeah . . ." Zack ran a hand through his hair. "I'd feel pretty silly if it really was the owner poking around in there, but that'd be better than if I do nothing and then find out the place did get robbed." With that he crossed the room to the telephone. A while back, the local precinct had sent out stickers for all the residents to put on their telephones. The stickers featured the local police phone number. After glancing at it, Zack began to dial.

Aerith stood by, waiting with crossed arms until Zack replaced the receiver in its cradle a few minutes later. "Are they going to send someone?" she asked.

Zack nodded. "The desk sergeant seemed pretty interested when I mentioned the lights, but he wouldn't say why," he blinked.

Aerith moved forward, laying her hands on his shoulders. "Oh well, it's probably police business," she said lightly. "Let's not worry about it. If you come back to the couch, I'll give you a massage." She began to try to steer Zack towards the couch.

Zack perked up. "Really?!" he exclaimed. "Now you're talking!" He grinned, quickly moving back to the couch.

Smiling, Aerith followed.

* * *

The auburn-haired man sighed wearily to himself as he stepped through the doors of the extended-stay hotel. Several locks of hair were falling into his eye again, but he did not pay them much heed. It had been a long day, though he could not complain that much when he had been surrounded by books. When he had awakened in this new world after being inadvertently sent there by Sephiroth, he had found himself working in the public library. That was quite agreeable with him, and so he had kept the job.

At times he had seen Marlene or Denzel come into the library, but of course they did not know him and thought nothing of seeing him. Other times Tifa was with them, and he would make himself scarce at those times. Tifa had been at the house the day he had gone to see Sephiroth when the man had still been gravely injured. He did not particularly want Tifa to see him here now; she might inform the others and then they would come. For the time being, he was content to not have his presence known. He would continue to observe them from a distance, assisting when he could but always allowing Sephiroth and the others their free agency to make their own choices.

Zack was getting better, which was satisfying to see. He had gone out of his way to rescue the brunet when Azazel Rakesh had been holding him captive. And a black feather seemed to have been left at the scene, too. He had heard it being discussed. Now Angeal and probably Sephiroth were wondering what was going on. They naturally realized whose feather it happened to be. Oh well . . . nothing could be done about that now. Perhaps someday he would at least fully reveal himself, but he did not intend to join the others for several reasons. He would be a lone wolf.

A slight frown crossed his features at the sight of a red-haired woman at the front desk. She was speaking to the desk clerk in a coy tone as she leaned over the edge. The man looked increasingly uneasy, fumbling to straighten his tie as she purred. No wonder she was flirting with him; he was an effortless target.

Of course, that was of little concern to the librarian. He began to walk past, intent on heading to the elevator. He pressed the button, crossing his arms as he waited in impatience. The woman's deep voice floated over to him.

"Oh, thank you so much, darling. I really don't know how long I'll be here this time. It's so good to know I have somewhere to call home."

The doors slid open. The man got in, immediately pressing the button to close the elevator after him. He did not want that woman sneaking a ride with him. Though on the other hand, it could be fun to let her know that not everyone would fall for her charms. A smirk crossed his features. But he let the doors shut anyway.

The hallway was empty when he arrived on his floor a moment later. He stepped out of the elevator, digging in his pocket for the card key. Procuring it, he straightened. His room was near the far corner. He started off at a brisk walk, making his way in that direction.

As he arrived at his door, the stairwell door began to open. He heard it somewhere in his mind, but it was of no concern to him.

Until a voice rang out.

"Oh Mr. Rhapsodos! I was hoping I'd catch you."

He froze. The woman from downstairs was calling his name. But he had never so much as seen her before. He turned to look, keeping his expression impassive.

"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me," he said in smooth tones. "I've never met you."

She smiled, her green eyes sizing him up in a moment. She knew he was not the type to fall prey to her flirtations, but that only made him all the more interesting.

"Nor I you," she said. "The nice man downstairs told me your name and said you were on my floor. I was hoping you would hold the elevator for me, but no such luck."

He shrugged. "The desk clerk isn't supposed to give out information about the guests," he said. "I could get him into trouble for that."

"Oh please don't!" she implored with fake sincerity. "I only wanted to know your name because you intrigued me. I'm Vivalene, by the way." She held out her hand. "I'm working at Fragmented Triangle."

All at once he was suspicious. Had this meeting been a coincidence at all? Or had someone at Fragmented Triangle decided to follow him and learn where he lived? Perhaps he should also turn on the charm. Two could play this game.

"I see," he said, grasping her hand and shaking it. "They're gaining quite a bit of prestige for a smaller company. What is it you do there?"

"I'm the secretary for Azazel Rakesh," she said, tossing her red curls over her shoulder. "Poor man, he's so overworked now that the company president has gone missing. Isn't it dreadful? I wonder whatever could have happened to him."

"Yes," he mused. "I wonder." Releasing her hand, he turned to his door. "You must be weary after your long journey," he said. "Won't you come in and have a drink?"

"Oh, I'd be delighted," she said. "But I would hate to intrude. You seemed in such a hurry to get up here."

He swiped the card key through the lock. The door clicked.

"It isn't an intrusion at all," he smiled as he pushed open the door. "You're very welcome."

"In that case," she answered, "I accept."

This was going to be interesting.


	3. A Strange Clue

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Sephiroth and Cloud arrived home a couple of hours later, tired and discouraged--their search having been fruitless. They exchanged tales of their day with Angeal and with Zack, who was baffled over the police not having found anything unusual at the house across the street. Both Sephiroth and Cloud were much too exhausted to care a great deal, and after eating their dinners, they retreated upstairs to get ready for bed.

The night passed in relative peace, which was both a surprise and a relief. Everyone slept well, with Angeal being the first to rise as usual. By the time the other men were getting up, Tifa and Aerith were preparing breakfast and Angeal was returning from his morning walk.

Zack bounded down the stairs just as Angeal arrived through the door. "Hey pal!" Zack chirped. "How's the neighborhood today?"

"Just fine," Angeal answered.

"Nothing weird across the street?" Zack asked.

Angeal shook his head. "Everything looks normal," he said. "The police said nothing seemed to be wrong."

Zack frowned. "You don't think I was seeing things, do you, Angeal?" he pleaded.

Angeal gave him a look. Zack had been injured recently, but he had not been hallucinating. And his eyesight was still excellent. "No, I don't," Angeal admitted, "but I don't know what you did see."

Zack's hands went to his hips. "Well, I'm gonna find out what I saw!" he vowed. "Even if I have to go over there myself, I'll figure it out."

"Don't do anything unnecessarily dangerous."

Zack turned at Seph's voice. The older man was coming down the stairs, looking irritated as he combed out his damp hair with his fingers.

"If you honestly believe something there is amiss," he continued, "you shouldn't go there alone, either."

Zack shrugged. "Aww, I probably wouldn't be able to get inside anyway," he said. "I hope everything's locked up good!"

"Then what's the point?" Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "I doubt there would be anything in the yard."

"You never know!" Zack said with a wave of his hand. "Maybe there'd be a clue that'd break the whole thing wide open."

"I wish something could break this mystery wide open," Cloud muttered as he arrived at the top of the stairs. His spikes were sticking in all directions, a manifestation of chronic bedhair. "We were up for hours without any luck. I bet the smugglers saw to it that the woman's profile was deleted."

"I'm going to call the hospital and find out about her condition," Sephiroth said. "Hopefully she'll be able to tell us more."

"No investigating until after breakfast!" Aerith said lightly, coming to the kitchen doorway with a metal spatula in hand.

Zack's eyes lit up. "Fine with me!" he declared. "Is it ready?"

"Just about." Aerith turned to go back into the kitchen. "You boys can help set the table."

Zack hurried to follow her. Sephiroth looked to Cloud in semi-amusement. Zack's enthusiasm for food was predictable by now, but endearing. And of course, the women's cooking skills were not to be disputed.

Cloud smirked, turning to head for the kitchen too. "Well," he said, "let's get to it."

* * *

The meal was well worth the time and effort, as usual. After enjoying their fills, they cleared the table and rinsed the dishes to put in the dishwasher. Sephiroth then wandered back into the living room to place the call to the hospital. When Zack followed him a moment later, he blinked in surprise to see Seph stiffening in shock, his eyes narrowing at something being said.

"When was this?" he demanded. His expression only grew more dark from the person's reply. "If there had been better security to begin with, this wouldn't have happened," he said, his voice clipped. "Given the circumstances, I would have thought you would have put more effort into keeping her safe."

Zack was staring when Seph hung up. "What's going on?!" he exclaimed.

Sephiroth affixed him with a very perturbed look. "She's disappeared," he stated.

Zack's mouth dropped open. "When?!"

Cloud came in behind him, stunned at the news. The only lead to what was going on had vanished into thin air? How could that happen?

"No one knows when it happened," Sephiroth grunted. "The last time anyone checked on her was earlier this morning. I'm guessing that one of the smugglers disguised himself as a doctor or a nurse in order to remove her from the room without drawing suspicion. When she was found missing an hour ago the police were called, but they haven't found any clues. The room was completely spotless."

"That's awful!" Zack cried. "And there's no cameras or anything that they can look at to find out where they went?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "This isn't like the Shinra medical centers," he said. "For a long time I've been thinking that we need a private infirmary at Jenova Corp, something solely for us, the employees, and close family and friends. We shouldn't delay any longer in having that addition made." He turned, his hair swishing with the motion. "Unfortunately, it's too late for that idea to solve this problem."

It was obvious that Sephiroth was furious. The cold, clipped tone was what he adopted when he was trying to control his temper. And Cloud did not blame him. He was angry, too. What were they going to do now? And what would happen to that employee? If she had really been taken by the smugglers, they would make sure not to leave her alive this time. She was probably already dead--but in case she was not, they needed to immediately find where she was and rescue her. And at the moment that seemed next to impossible.

"Was Vincent at the hospital?" Cloud asked.

"I don't know," Sephiroth said, looking back to him. "If he was, he probably wasn't in that area."

"I'm going to call him," Cloud decided, pulling out his cellphone.

"You do that," Sephiroth said. "I'm going to look through the profiles we found last night that could be suspicious."

"I'll help!" Zack volunteered immediately.

"I will too," Angeal said, entering the room.

Sephiroth was grateful for the offers. He nodded, turning to go to his office. The others followed.

"I'll come in a minute," Cloud said as he dialed.

* * *

Vincent had not been at the hospital, but he was on his way there at the moment. He frowned in irritation as his cellphone rang. Now he would need to look for a place to pull over, and traffic was getting thick for the morning rush. Though on second thought, the cars ahead were barely moving, and the vehicles coming along either side of his own were preventing him from going anywhere. He would probably be late for work anyway.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he dug into his pocket and removed his phone. He flipped it open, bringing it to his ear.

"Vincent?" Cloud's voice greeted him.

"What is it?" Vincent returned. The car just ahead of him screeched to a halt after what could not be more than two inches. Vincent slammed on the brakes.

"I guess you're not at the hospital," Cloud commented. The sounds of the oncoming traffic jam were going through the phone loud and clear.

"No," Vincent said. Nearby, a horn gave a loud honk, its owner exasperated.

Cloud sighed. ". . . We're having a problem at Jenova Corp," he said. "Some employee said we've got smugglers here, but she got beat up before we could learn any more. And now Sephiroth found out she's disappeared from the hospital."

"I don't know anything about it," Vincent said. "They didn't call me."

"Well, when you get there, can you try to find out more?" Cloud asked. "If the smugglers got her, they're probably going to make sure they don't mess up this time."

"Probably." Traffic began to inch forward again. Vincent followed suit. It looked like beyond the stoplight they were approaching, the cars were moving freely. Maybe he would be lucky enough to join them.

For a moment there was silence on the other end of the line. "Vincent, is the whole staff there trustworthy?" Cloud queried.

"There's some I like better than others," Vincent said. "I couldn't say whether any of them would be involved in something illegal." It would be naive and unrealistic to say he knew for sure that they were all upright people. There could be a bad apple or two in every barrel.

"Does anybody stand out?" Cloud persisted. "We were thinking somebody probably snuck in and carted this employee off, but what if it was somebody who was already on the staff?"

"Possible. Maybe you should start by finding out her attending physician and the nurse," Vincent said.

"Yeah. We're going to. I'm going to run this past Sephiroth and the others."

"Was she badly hurt enough that she couldn't have left on her own?" Vincent wondered.

"I don't know," Cloud said. "I'll have to find that out, too."

"Come to the hospital in thirty minutes and I should be there," Vincent told him. "I'll see what I can find out in the meantime."

"Great. Thanks." With that Cloud hung up.

Vincent folded the cellphone, replacing it in his pocket. Not a moment too soon; they were coming to the light and traffic was indeed getting better. The cars began to go their separate directions. Vincent continued going straight.

And without warning a strange man stumbled out of nowhere, slamming his hands on the hood of the car. There was no time to think. Vincent threw on the brakes as the person staggered past. Crimson eyes narrowed. The idiot did not look drunk, just exhausted. What was he thinking?

He rolled down the window. "You're going to get killed." It was a flat statement.

The man looked over at him, giving a shaky nod. "Yes, I'm quite aware of that," he said. "It was very good of you to stop, sir." He straightened up, adjusting his glasses.

Vincent grunted. The last thing he needed was to hit somebody. "Stay on the sidewalk," he said, moving to start the engine.

"A very logical concept, to be sure. I happened to be making my way in that direction when you suddenly appeared." The man shrugged broad shoulders, turning to continue his journey to the other side of the street. It was impossible not to notice that he was vaguely limping. It had not happened when he had nearly crashed into Vincent's car; it had contributed to the near-accident. He should not have been running so fast with such an injury.

Vincent was not one to meddle in other people's affairs, but the fact that he had nearly gotten involved in an accident, as well as now being a doctor, prompted him to speak again.

"Did you have your leg looked at?"

The man froze, looking back over his shoulder. "No, I didn't," he said. "But it's nothing that won't heal."

Vincent was not impressed. "If you're not going to see a doctor, maybe you should at least consider using a cane until it heals. And not to run like that."

"Perhaps. And while I thank you for your concern, good sir, I must be on my way." With a wave of his hand the stranger turned once more, at last arriving on the curb.

A frown crossed Vincent's features as he rolled up the window. He had seen that man somewhere, but at the moment he could not place it. And he was going to be even more late. Pressing on the accelerator, he sped off down the street.

Behind the vanishing car, the limping man wandered around the next corner. He had been traveling all night, ever since escaping from the basement of the old office building where he had been held prisoner. Apparently he had twisted his ankle at some point during his flight, but he had not wanted to stop to see about it. Any time he spent loitering was time that his enemies could catch up to him. He had made it out of the building without incident, but the blond would have told the others that he had departed. They were probably all looking for him right now.

His ankle rolled as he took the next step. Cursing to himself, he planted his other foot on the sidewalk and threw his weight onto it. Releasing the pressure helped--at least somewhat. As he went forward again, he looked to the half-useless leg he was dragging. He would have to keep a closer watch on that ankle.

So it was that he was not observing where he was going. As he approached the end of the block, someone else was coming from the opposite direction. They collided.

He stumbled back, adjusting his glasses again as he took in the odd person who had almost been knocked down. "You must pardon me," he said in a smooth voice. "I'm in a great hurry. Are you hurt?" He took in the stringy raven hair, thin lips, and ice-blue eyes. What a bizarre man. The tan coat with tufted fur on the collar and cuffs only added to the eccentric appearance. And . . . was that a fake hand?

The other stared. "Dalton!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Instantly Dalton tensed. Whoever this was, he knew the same name that had been bestowed by the smugglers. Was he associated with them? Or had their acquaintance been made due to other means? Perhaps "Dalton" actually was his own moniker.

"I'm terribly sorry," he spoke, "but you will have to refresh my memory on how we know one another. I don't remember you at all."

The strange man frowned. "I think you'd better come with me," he said with a gesture. "I've been looking for you since the day you disappeared." His right hand _was _a fake. The rising winter sun caught the gleam from the flesh-colored material.

"Perhaps first you should tell me why I should come," Dalton retorted. He was not about to trust anyone. If this person did not seem to know of the smugglers, maybe he would be given a chance. On the other hand, that might be a deliberate approach in order to get Dalton to lower his guard.

The raven-haired man pondered on this demand. "We've known each other for many years," he said at last. "Together we started the Fragmented Triangle company." He crossed his arms. ". . . Besides, if you don't remember, where do you think you can go? You don't look like you have any resources."

Dalton really had no idea where he would go. "Even if we did start this company," he answered, "it doesn't make you trustworthy. There are many supposed allies who stab their comrades in the back. I don't intend to be on the receiving end of that."

A shrug. "If you'd rather go about things on your own." But the man narrowed his eyes. "You're limping," he proclaimed, observing the other's determination to keep throwing his weight onto one side.

"So I am," Dalton said, annoyed that he could not hide the injury. "It isn't serious."

"Even with that hindrance, you could most certainly overpower me if I turn out to be your enemy," replied the other.

Dalton smirked. "I could," he agreed. He would make a decision. Perhaps it was foolish, but for now he was going to try. "Very well then. I'll come with you for the time being. But you never did tell your name."

"An oversight," his companion smiled. "Azazel Rakesh."

Dalton raised an eyebrow. "Azazel? As in the Hebrew term translated as 'scapegoat'?"

"Something like that," Azazel responded. "Only where we came from, it wasn't Hebrew."

"How interesting," Dalton mused. "You will have to tell me about it sometime."

"Yes," Azazel said, "I will."

* * *

Sephiroth was already weary when they arrived at the hospital shortly following Cloud's conversation with Vincent. Dealing with doctors had never been one of his favorite things, and he intended to throw his authority as company president around in order to learn what he could. He was responsible for his employee's safety, especially when her identity was not known and her family could not be contacted. He was still furious that more had not been done by the hospital staff to protect her.

On the ride, he had been mulling over their next course of action. He and the others had compiled a list of the possibly suspicious employees and their departments, and when they went to Jenova Corp they would need to seek out every one of those people and form an opinion of them. The plan would be to eventually mention the mugging, without ever indicating it was more than that, and see how they reacted. Zack and Angeal would be the ideal ones to go about the task, due to Zack's talkative nature and Angeal's managerial position. It could look suspicious for certain if Sephiroth and Cloud randomly went to the employees--not that there was not some level of risk in any case.

Perhaps, Sephiroth mused, among the more honest-seeming workers he should describe the beaten woman and ask if they knew who she was. He could still play up the mugging angle for that. His only concern would be that the employees would not really be as trustworthy as they seemed, or that even if they were, something could get back to the real criminals responsible. If the smugglers thought for one moment that the woman had been able to tell anything, they could kill her--if she was not dead already. Yet on the other hand, things could potentially work in Sephiroth's and the others' favor. If the criminals knew that their employers were on to them, they might make foolish mistakes. And then the woman might be able to be rescued.

Holding people's lives in his hands was nothing new; he had held that responsibility many times as General of SOLDIER. But it never became any less of a concern. Every situation was different. He could never solve one case exactly the same way that he had solved another before it.

"Seph, you look beat!"

He glanced up at Zack's concerned voice. The brunet was preparing to open the door and step out onto the pavement, but now he leaned forward to better see his friend.

Sephiroth grunted. "It was a long night," he said. "This is starting out to be a long day."

"Yeah. . . ." Zack tried to grin. "But I'll be right here to share the load," he proclaimed. His determination last night had paid off, since they had agreed to let him come with them. He was not, however, to get into anything that would be without a doubt dangerous. And he was to stop and rest if he began to grow exhausted. Oh well, he was willing to make the compromise.

Sephiroth nodded. "I know," he said. And having Zack along would be a big help. They needed all the people they could get. He undid his seatbelt, shifting to the side in order to get out of the car.

"If I see anything weird at that house when we come home, I'm gonna check things out there, too," Zack vowed.

Seph's long legs enabled him to exit the limousine with poise and grace. In contrast, Zack simply hopped out, his shoes hitting the pavement.

"We have enough of our own problems without worrying over mysterious lights across the street," Sephiroth said, looking to Zack.

The brunet shrugged. "Aww, come on, Seph!" he pleaded. "Even if nothing's wrong, aren't you curious?"

"Not really." Sephiroth's response was flat and matter-of-fact. He began to walk towards the doors. Cloud and Angeal were already halfway there.

Zack hurried to catch up, his expression sobered now. "It's kinda weird that I saw those lights when all the other trouble was happening last night," he mused.

"I doubt the smugglers would be foolish enough to set up shop right across the street from us," Sephiroth retorted.

"Yeah, I know!" Zack said. "It probably wouldn't be _that_, but maybe it's something else important, anyway."

Sephiroth stepped through the doorway as the electronic doors pulled back. "Something not relating to us," he said.

Vincent was waiting for them in the lobby, as promised. In his hand he was holding a file folder. He regarded them with a deadpan look.

"Did you find anything out?" he greeted.

"Only the names of the physician and the nurse," Sephiroth grunted in irritation. "They weren't available because they were being questioned by the police."

Vincent nodded. "The attending physician, Daniel Sloan, is one of the most skilled men at the hospital."

"Do you trust him?" Sephiroth inquired.

Vincent nodded. "He said he did order a guard for the woman's room," he reported. "The nurse was aware of it, too. The guard was there for most of the night, but when he was supposed to switch places with another guard, the second one didn't come. And the first one disappeared."

Zack's mouth dropped open. "What the heck?!" he burst out.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "And no one has any idea what happened there, either," he deduced.

"They don't." Vincent pressed the folder into Sephiroth's hands. "This is Dr. Sloan's report on the woman."

Sephiroth flipped it open. According to the physician, the damage had been serious, but not life-threatening. But his eyes still narrowed as he read the details.

Zack peered over his shoulder. "Yikes," he said, shuddering at the descriptions of broken ribs and some internal bleeding. Then a fist clenched. "Any sane person who'd treat a girl like that couldn't have any decency!" Her loved ones would be outraged.

"And unless she's got a secret life as Wonder Woman, she couldn't have gotten out of here on her own," Cloud muttered, reading as well.

Sephiroth lifted the sheet of paper to look underneath. Finding nothing, he closed the folder and handed it back to Vincent. "Where is the room she was using?" he asked.

Vincent turned to lead them down the hall. "The police have already been here and looked," he said. "They didn't find anything."

"Well, we'll try anyway!" Zack said in determination.

Arriving at the door, Vincent pushed it open. The room beyond was exactly as it had been left--clean and straightened, with no sign of its occupant or whoever had taken her away. Other than the bed and the standard equipment, the only objects in the room were a nightstand, the locker, and a television set suspended at the corner of the ceiling.

Sephiroth walked past Vincent to the locker. "What happened to the clothes she was wearing?" he asked.

"They were taken by her abductor," Vincent told him. "The police dusted for fingerprints, but there weren't any except hers, the doctor's, and the nurse's."

Sephiroth pulled open the door, examining the empty space. "What do you think of the nurse?"

"Her name is Ginger Lewis," Vincent said. "She's brusque, but efficient."

Zack wandered over to the bed. Hefting the mattress, he peered at the box springs underneath. "Nothing here," he reported.

Cloud was standing near the head of the bed. "Hey wait!" he said suddenly, as Zack was about to lower the mattress again.

Zack blinked, looking over to him. "What is it?" he said.

"Something's caught between the box springs and the headboard," Cloud said. "I can just barely see the top of it." Reaching down, he got his fingers on either side of it and began to ease it up by the edges. "It's some kind of rectangular card." Finally freeing it, he straightened up and looked at it, still holding it by the edges so as not to disturb any possible remaining fingerprints.

_Thorton Books and Antiques_

_Come for the new, stay for the old._

_Or the other way around._

Below that it gave an address in the older part of town.

"It's a business card," he announced.

Zack dropped the mattress and hurried over to look. "Weird slogan," he frowned. "Why not just come for both in the first place?"

Angeal studied it over Cloud's shoulder. "So it had to have been left since the Jenova Corp employee came here?" he said.

Vincent nodded. "It looks recent. And the nurse would have found it earlier if a different patient had left it."

"But this lady wouldn't have been in any condition to leave a clue, would she?" Zack blinked.

"Probably not." Sephiroth had come over to look as well. "But I doubt the smugglers would leave a calling card."

Cloud nodded. "It was stuck down there so far, it must have been done on purpose," he said. "Maybe she did leave it as a clue, and she had to push it far enough so that whoever carted her off wouldn't see it and take it away."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Zack exclaimed. "Let's go look at this place!"

Sephiroth nodded his consent. "It's the only possible lead," he said. "It might not even be connected with what happened, but we can't take any chances."

Searching the rest of the room did not provide them with any more clues. After writing down the address on the business card, they left the possible evidence for Vincent to give to the police and hurried out the door.


	4. Thorton Books and Antiques

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help! And I can't take credit for the design of the awesome store visited in this chapter; it's almost entirely based on a place that really exists.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Thorton Books and Antiques was located on what had been the original Main Street. Filled with quaint shops and buildings, both old and new, it offered an element of nostalgia to those who passed. There seemed to be a bit of everything, from little cafés and restaurants to a craft store and a bakery. The business in question was in a building that looked very old. It appeared to be two or three floors, with old-style rectangular windows on the upper levels. As Sephiroth maneuvered into a parking space in front, Zack blinked in surprise at the front windows.

"Hey, look at that!" he exclaimed, tapping the glass of the car window. "There's a little table-top white Christmas tree in there."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Winter's almost over," he said.

"It looks like it has ornaments on it for some other Earth holiday," Zack surmised. He opened the door, leaping out onto the bricked pavement. "That's a pretty cool idea! Maybe . . ." The wheels were already turning in his head..

"Oh brother." Cloud looked to Sephiroth, who was just getting out of the car. "There'll be no stopping him now." Zack loved Christmas trees so much that he had hated to take down theirs after the December holidays. Now he would have an excuse to keep up the little artificial trees he had bought for the house.

Sephiroth shook his head, amused. Zack was in Heaven. He was already throwing open the door, wandering curiously to that part of the display. Sephiroth followed, opening the door at a more normal pace. Cloud and Angeal came in after him.

"This is a unique store," Angeal commented. From his tone of voice he seemed to be impressed. Every now and then amid the shelves of antiques and unusual gifts, there was a bookcase set up with volumes. Through an open doorway to the left, a room with red walls was visible with many shelves of books. To the right, in the main room, there seemed to be a bit of everything. Shelves on the right wall housed quilts and supplies for making them. Further on, a glass case at a counter featured various memorabilia from past eras, including what looked like an original Troll doll from the sixties.

Cloud blinked in disbelief as he walked past the nook where Zack was admiring the many-holiday tree. An old bathtub was sitting on the floor, filled with buttons. "Somebody wasn't being careful with their clothes," he said in sarcasm.

Zack came out from the niche, his eyes widening at the sight of the tub. "There's enough buttons in there to serve a small village!" he exclaimed.

Sephiroth preferred buckles, and in any case, he had very little interest in looking at different button designs. He walked ahead, looking towards the counter on the left. An odd, lanky, middle-aged man was leaning over it, carefully building a card house out of what looked like some kind of trading cards. To the man's side, on the path in the center of the room, another room beyond the main one was filled with odds and ends. And yet a third room at the very back seemed to be the same way. To the right side of the first of the extra rooms was a staircase going up, painted mint green.

Sephiroth turned, crossing to the left counter. "Excuse me," he began.

"Just a moment, young man," was the answer. "I just have one more card to put in place."

In irritation Sephiroth crossed his arms, watching as the clerk balanced a final card on top of his masterpiece. As it held, the man looked up in delight. "There!" he declared. "I've built a house out of Duel Monsters cards. Maybe I should put this on display in the front."

Sephiroth grunted. "This establishment was recommended to me by someone," he said. "She may be one of your customers. We're trying to find her now and we thought you might know where she is."

"Oh! Interested, are we?" the man smiled.

"No," Sephiroth retorted. "Her life may be in danger."

The man's eyes widened. "Well, my goodness!" he exclaimed. "I'm Wilbur Thorton, the owner and proprietor. Do tell me what she looks like and I'll see if I can remember. I should be able to; I have a photographic memory." This he said proudly, thumping himself on the chest.

By now the others were gathering behind Sephiroth. He was the only one who had seen her, and so they waited for him to speak.

"She has shoulder-length blondish hair," he reported, "in natural curls. Her eyes are hazel and she appeared to be around five feet four inches."

Thorton looked worried. "When did you see her?" he demanded.

"Last night," Sephiroth said.

"I live with my niece who works for Jenova Corp, one of those big companies in town," Thorton announced. "I haven't been able to get in touch with her since last night. She always comes here after work to help me close up before we go home, so I know something must be wrong!"

Zack stepped forward. "We run Jenova Corp," he said. "It must've been your niece who contacted Seph here last night." He clapped Seph on the shoulder.

Wilbur blinked. "She contacted you to tell you about my shop?!" he said in disbelief.

"No," Sephiroth said. "She knew information about a problem we're having at the company. She got in touch with me through email to let me know, and wanted to meet somewhere. Unfortunately, the criminals found her first. She was badly beaten, her identification stolen."

"And now she's disappeared from the hospital," Cloud said. "The only thing we found in her room was a business card for this place."

Now the poor man looked faint. "O-Oh . . . oh my," he gasped, passing a hand across his forehead as he slumped back. "Poor Jessie . . . !"

Zack felt horrible for him. He was an eccentric guy, but he obviously cared about his family very much. This would be horrible for anyone to have to hear. Zack hated that they could not tell him that she had been found and was recovering. What if that never even happened?

"Mr. Thorton, time is of the essence," Sephiroth said. "It may already be too late to save her, but we and the police are doing all we can to try. Now I need you to think. Do you know if anyone has been bothering your niece lately?"

Thorton looked confused. "Bothering?" he repeated.

Angeal came forward. "Has anyone been here wanting to talk to her?" he suggested. "Someone who didn't seem friendly?"

The man looked helpless. "I can't think of anyone," he said, running a hand through his thinning light hair. "Though . . ." He frowned. "Someone did call her a couple of times. I think once he came here, and she didn't want him to come in. At least it seemed that way. She went to meet him outside. I remember it looked like they were arguing."

"How long ago was this?" Sephiroth wanted to know.

A helpless shrug. "No more than a week ago . . . maybe sooner. Oh . . . yes, it was last Friday," Thorton deduced. "Today's Tuesday. I remember the man was here on Friday because I'd just got done talking to my brother Burt, who runs a toy store in the mall. Jessie is the daughter of a third brother, who has passed on now . . ."

"What did the man look like?" Sephiroth interrupted in irritation.

Thorton snapped back to the present. "He was very tall, with a blond crewcut," he mused. "His hair was really light . . . almost as if maybe he had bleached it. And he looked like he was one of those people who lifts weights." He glanced from Sephiroth to Angeal. "He was kind of built like the two of you, I suppose. Probably more like you." He nodded to Sephiroth.

"You don't know who he is at all?" Zack blinked.

Thorton paused. "I think Jessie may have called him Marcel when she was talking to him on the phone," he said. "I was wondering if he was a boyfriend, but she denied it. Actually, she wouldn't say how she knew him."

Cloud ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe she knew him from work?" he said.

"Maybe," Thorton agreed. "I really don't know."

Sephiroth made a mental note to perform a search in the company database for employees named Marcel. "Does anyone work here besides you?" he queried.

Thorton nodded. "There's my assistant Dave," he said. "And Carol and Linda. They're clerks. And the people who rent spaces for the antique mall sections come in now and then."

"Antique mall?" Zack repeated. Somehow it had never occurred to him to call such a place a "mall." He always imagined rows and rows of stores when he heard about malls. And here, there were all kinds of things together in one store.

Thorton looked enthusiastic. "Yes, people can rent small spaces to put up things they have for sale," he said. "Most of the dealers have their sections upstairs, but there are some down here, too."

Sephiroth really could not care less, especially considering the current situation. "Has there been anyone besides this Marcel who has been bothering your niece?" he asked.

"I . . . can't recall that there has been," Thorton said. "She and Dave don't get along that well, but that's more of a clash of personalities than anything else."

Sephiroth nodded but did not respond. If Jessie had indeed left the card on purpose, it had likely been in order to inform her uncle of what had happened, as well as to get her own identity revealed. They might need to come back again to question Thorton further. But for now Sephiroth was anxious to get to Jenova Corp and try once more to find Jessie in the database, as well as to look for Marcel.

"Do you know what it is that your niece does at Jenova Corp?" he asked.

Thorton blinked. "Not really," he confessed. "She tried to explain it to me, but all these technical explanations get so confusing. She may be a computer programmer."

That was not much to go on, though it did narrow the search somewhat.

"Thank you for your time," Sephiroth said. "The police will probably be by soon to talk to you as well."

"O-of course." Thorton looked from Sephiroth to the others. "You'll let me know what happens, won't you?" he said worriedly.

"Sure thing!" Zack said.

But then he frowned. It really felt like someone was watching them. With narrowed eyes he looked over at the rooms ahead of them. A shadow vanished out of sight in the second room.

"Hey!" Zack yelled. "Come back here!" He tore past the astonished Thorton, running into the second room. An ancient cash register was to his right, as well as other relics from that long ago period, but he barely paid attention. Footsteps were sounding in the third room just ahead, which seemed to consist of one long, narrow corridor with vendor spaces on each side. Zack ran through the doorway. A figure in a navy blue ski jacket and matching wool hat was running for the back door.

"Hold up!" Zack demanded. "Why were you eavesdropping on us?!"

At the last moment the person swerved, disappearing through a door to the right. Zack caught up in an instant, ignoring the Employees Only sign on the door. He pushed his way into a world of boxes stacked in every direction, the door swinging shut behind him. At the same moment, the lights went out.

Zack gritted his teeth. Was the person using this as a way to escape, or was he planning to do something to Zack? The others had run into the third room by now. Cloud was calling for Zack. The brunet frowned, remaining where he was. Should he open the door and go out to his friends, or should he linger, try to find the light switch, and see what was happening in here? If the door he had run through was the only way out, the person would have to be trapped. But there were no sounds at all. Maybe the eavesdropper was waiting to see what Zack would do.

He reached for the doorknob. At the same moment, a bizarre motor echoed through the storeroom. His mouth dropped open. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner! But the floor was hard. Maybe the weird person had turned on a vacuum cleaner to hide the sounds of escape.

He flung open the door, narrowly missing Cloud. "I chased the spy in here!" he announced, to everyone's surprise. "But now he turned off the lights and I can't find him!"

Cloud narrowed his eyes. "There's another door at the front of this room," he said, "but it's closed. Nobody could've sneaked past us." He hurried into the room, followed by Sephiroth and Angeal, the latter of whom made sure that the door stayed open to give light.

Zack had already gone ahead of them. "That's weird," he frowned, studying the rows of boxes.

"Which part?" Sephiroth retorted.

"I heard something like a vacuum cleaner right before I opened the door," Zack said. "Now it's stopped!" He hurried towards the direction from which the sound had seemed to come. But there were only more open and empty crates.

"There's an outside exit," Angeal noted, looking towards a glass door opening into an alley. "He probably left through there." He frowned. "But I don't see a vacuum cleaner anywhere."

"I know what I heard!" Zack exclaimed. He ran to the door, peering out into the alley. There was no sign of anyone.

Cloud folded his arms. "What happened to Thorton anyway?" he wondered. "Wasn't he interested in what was happening in his own place?"

"A customer came in right when we were starting to follow Zack," Sephiroth said. "It sounded like she stopped to talk to him." And was that just a coincidence, or deliberate? Maybe the spy had not come here alone, and an accomplice had distracted the owner on purpose to keep him away. But why? Would he have been able to identify the eavesdropper? And what about the odd sound Zack had heard?

Zack looked inside a half-full box as he walked away from the door. Books were stacked inside, ready to be put on the shelves. "This is weird, too," he said, reaching to lift out a volume. "I mean, why put a half-full box in here? I thought once a box was opened, everything was taken out." He flipped briefly through the pages, then placed the book back inside.

"The owner would sure have time to do it," Cloud frowned. "Instead he was building a card house."

Quickly they finished searching the storeroom, without success. The eavesdropper had indeed fled, and he or she had not left any clues. Frustrated and bewildered, the quartet left the room and began to walk back to the main room. A deep woman's voice met their ears before she came into view.

"Now, really, darling, I was so hoping you would have that volume in stock," she sighed.

Thorton sounded awkward as he tried to reply. "Well, I'm terribly sorry," he said. "We don't have it new. You could look downstairs again, if you'd like, or even go upstairs to the antique mall. Some of the dealers bring books. . . ."

"I really wanted a new copy," the woman answered. "Your store came so highly recommended for books that are hard to find in print anywhere else."

Now they could see that she was a coquettish redhead, leaning over the top of the glass counter. Thorton almost looked intimidated by her sweet smile and green eyes. Sephiroth was immediately disgusted.

"Hmm. . . . My, you have lovely customers," she declared as the men entered the room. "Won't you introduce me?" She glanced back at Thorton, who looked much too relieved for the interruption.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Yes. Why don't you introduce yourselves? This is Vivalene. She comes in here now and then."

"I'll be in a lot more these days," Vivalene smiled. "I'm staying in Domino for a while. Work and all. Aren't you boys the owners of Jenova Corp?" She looked from Sephiroth to Cloud.

Sephiroth was irritated by her flirting. And being called a "boy", when he was the same age as her or possibly older, did not help his temperament.

"Yes, we own the company," he said, his voice curt.

"So crabby," she pouted. "You must be Sephiroth. Your hair is even more marvelous than I ever imagined." She smiled again. "You must tell me the secret."

Sephiroth ignored her comment. She was certainly capable of keeping Thorton occupied. She might be trying to do the same thing to them now, or else to learn why they were here. It was apparent that she had become skilled in manipulating people to her wishes. It would be easy enough to imagine that she could be dangerous.

"Well, I hope not everyone there is so stone-faced," she purred, and turned to Zack. "You look like someone who knows how to show a woman a good time," she said.

"I hope so," Zack grinned. "Aerith seems satisfied, anyway."

"Oh, you're taken." She mock-sighed. "I should have realized, of course." She turned, moving to go past them to the stairs. "Well, maybe I'll look around up there. It's so fascinating. Have you seen it?"

"Not yet," Zack said.

"I'd be glad to play hostess," she said with a gesture.

"Maybe we'll be up after a while," Cloud said, mostly in the hopes of getting her to leave.

"Oh good." She smiled again. "Then I'll see you up there." She winked at him before crossing to the stairs and beginning the climb.

Zack's shoulders slumped. "Wow," he said.

Thorton let out a weary sigh. "She's a very strange woman," he said, once she was out of hearing range. "I guess I shouldn't say that, because she is a good customer, but she flirts with all the men who come in here. Sometimes she even tries flirting with Dave."

"I can believe it," Cloud muttered.

"It's so embarrassing," Thorton said.

"Where was it all of you ran off to?" he wondered, looking to each in turn.

"Somebody was spying on us!" Zack declared. "I chased 'im into the back room and then the lights went out." He frowned. "And then I heard something like a vacuum cleaner. It was crazy!"

"A vacuum cleaner?!" Thorton was bewildered. "I don't keep a vacuum cleaner in there. There's no carpet!"

"Is there anything else that could have made a similar sound?" Sephiroth asked.

"There shouldn't be," Thorton blinked. "But what happened with the person?"

"Got away through the alley, I guess," Zack said. "I wish I could've caught him!"

Sephiroth gave Thorton a hard look. "You said that woman is strange," he said. "Do you trust her in spite of that?"

"Trust?" Thorton repeated. "I don't think she'd steal from me, but 'trust' is still a pretty strong word. . . ."

"Then you don't trust her," Sephiroth said.

"I didn't say that," Thorton quickly said.

"What if she was working with the spy?" Sephiroth voiced his suspicions. "Maybe she deliberately came in when she did to distract us, but since we had already left, she decided to at least keep you away from the chase."

"I'm sure I wouldn't have been any help anyway," Thorton said in amazement.

"She might not want to take a chance." Sephiroth crossed his arms. "You should come see the storeroom anyway. If anything is out of place or missing, you should be able to take note of it."

Thorton came out from behind the desk. "Very well," he said. "I guess I really should. But I don't know why anything would be taken from here."

"It depends on what their motives are," Sephiroth said.

"Oh yeah," Zack spoke, "when are the other employees here?" It seemed odd to him, that Thorton would be the only person in the place right now. But save for the weirdo, and the customer Vivalene, no one else had been sighted.

"Linda's upstairs," Thorton said. "Carol's downstairs, where most of the used books are. You can only get down there from outside. And . . ." He looked confused. "I'm not sure where Dave is. He was picking up an order, so he should be back any time."

Sephiroth nodded. Though he still wanted to get to Jenova Corp, the eavesdropper incident had altered their plans. Now they should probably stay long enough to look over the rest of the store. Who knew what could be lurking in any given place.

Zack ran a hand through his hair, sensing some of Seph's thoughts. "So, after we take Mr. Thorton to see the storeroom . . . do we go upstairs and encounter Vivalene again?" he asked. Though he had put on a carefree act while she had spoken to him, the dread now was obvious in his eyes.

"Let's try the other sections first," Sephiroth said. He turned, intending to head to the back of the store.

Without warning something heavy crashed overhead. A blood-curdling scream rang out from upstairs.

"What the heck was that?!" Zack yelped.

Sephiroth was already changing course. He crossed to the mint staircase, beginning the ascent in determination. The others followed, including a horrified Thorton.

Green eyes narrowed at the sight at the top. Several empty white metal shelves had been overturned like dominoes. A woman with short black hair was staring first at the mess and then towards a corridor made from standing, filled shelves on both sides.

"What happened here?" Sephiroth demanded.

She shook her head. "Someone was looking over some of the antique glasses this vendor has," she said, indicating some shelves to the side with beautiful crystal goblets of varying colors. "When I asked if I could help him find anything, he turned and knocked all of these shelves down before running towards that corner!"

Sephiroth started to walk past her in that direction. "What did he look like?" he asked.

Overcoming her initial shock, she began to follow him. "I couldn't really see, because he was wearing a ski jacket and a hat, and he wouldn't turn to look at me," she said.

Zack stared. "Somebody like that was spying on us downstairs!" he cried. "But how'd he get up here without us seeing him?!"

Sephiroth arrived at the end of the corridor, where a railing closed off a small portion of the floor and the pathway turned to the right. No one was there. He frowned, turning to look back at the railing as he walked over to it. Instead of it completely sealing off the space, it was only on one side to keep people from falling. Beyond it was a staircase going down. The man must have gone that way.

Quickly Sephiroth walked around to the head of the stairs, beginning to descend. The others were still following right behind him.

"Where does this lead?" he called to Thorton.

"To a small clothing shop between the first and second floors," Thorton said. "Another vendor."

Sure enough, at the bottom were racks and rows of clothing against the walls. Most did not look recent.

"This looks more like a costume shop!" Zack declared, blinking at a leather jacket from the fifties.

"Yes, we get a lot of business at Halloween," Thorton told him, the distraction obvious in his voice.

Sephiroth barely paid attention. He turned to the left, going down the low-ceiling corridor until another staircase came into view. This one led back to the main floor, into the red room he had noticed from the front entrance. And at the top of the stairs he could see the entire span of the room. It was empty.

In the space of a few scant seconds, the mysterious person had completely vanished for the second time.


	5. The Note

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze for plot help! The store is still based on a real-life place, but I had to use my imagination for the room beyond the red room.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

In complete irritation, Sephiroth started down the steps into the red room. At the bottom and to his right was a kimono on a dressform display. A parasol was cocked over the right shoulder. Seated on doll furniture around it were very old and worn dolls from the fifties or earlier. To its left, at the very back, was a case with more glasswares. No one was hiding back there.

Sephiroth turned to face the front. The rows of bookshelves stretched before him. Just to the side of the old dolls was the doorway leading into the main room. It also looked vacant, but it would be foolish to take chances.

"We'll split up," he directed. "Someone should search the main room as well as right outside."

"I'll go to the main room," Cloud volunteered, starting to move past Sephiroth.

"I'll go with you," Angeal said, moving to follow.

The brunette woman hesitated. "I should get back upstairs," she said slowly. "There's other customers. . . ."

"Right now, catching the troublemaker should be first priority," Sephiroth told her. He walked forward, keeping in the center of the row. Over against the wall to his left, near the corner, was a door he had not previously noticed. He increased his pace. "Where does that door lead?" he demanded.

Thorton blinked. "Just to some offices," he said, "such as mine. There is a way to get downstairs from there, but it's for employee use only. It should be locked unless you have a key."

Sephiroth weaved his way through the rows anyway. Arriving at the door, he grasped the handle and turned it. It clicked, swinging open to reveal the hallway beyond. Green eyes narrowed. Either the door had been left unlocked, the intruder had picked the lock . . . or the intruder had a key. But . . . did that mean it had been an attack from the inside?

"This is preposterous!" Thorton exclaimed, horrified as he peered from behind Sephiroth at the office doors. "Look, they're all wide open. I know the doors were closed when I left my office this morning."

Zack blinked. "So the guy came in here looking for something?"

Sephiroth was already advancing into the corridor. "Or he wanted to make it look that way to distract from his real purpose," he mused, glancing briefly into each room. There was not a place to hide in any of them. Nor was there a door to a staircase.

"Where's the entrance to the basement?" he asked.

"O-over here," the shaken Thorton replied, turning to the left and walking around a piece of wall that jutted into the aisle. His eyes widened as he grabbed at the doorknob on the other side. "Why, it's locked!" he exclaimed.

"Then the creep must've come this way!" Zack said. "But what the heck?! Why lock it up?"

Thorton fumbled with the items in his pockets. "I don't have my keys!" he cried in disbelief.

Sephiroth gave him a sharp look. "And you know they were in your pocket?" he asked.

Thorton started to nod, then stopped. "I . . . I don't know!" he said in mystification. "I was sure they were here, but now they aren't, and . . ." He ran a hand over his face. "Linda!" he said, addressing the young woman. "Do you have your keys?"

"Yes, sir," she confirmed, pulling out a keychain. Quickly she walked to the door, inserting a specific key and turning the lock. Pushing the door open, she frowned into the darkened stairwell. She reached inside, flipping on the light before beginning to descend. Sephiroth and the others followed suit.

"The light is supposed to be on all the time people are here," Thorton frowned. "Was it turned off to try to make us trip?!"

Sephiroth grunted in response. Anything was possible, he supposed--though he hoped that each of them would be smart enough to turn on the light before trying to go downstairs.

At the bottom was an empty office, the desk crowded with papers, books, and other assorted items. More books were on the floor in boxes. The office opened into a small room featuring what looked like children's volumes and serials, and through the open doorway beyond that, another desk was visible. A girl with straight, short brown hair had kicked back in a chair, involved in a novel.

"Well, she doesn't look like she just saw a weirdo go past," Zack blinked.

"In fact, she looks quite the opposite," Sephiroth said as he walked forward into the children's room.

At last the brown-haired girl started and looked up. "Hey!" she exclaimed, pushing her wide-rimmed glasses up on her nose. "How did you get in that way? It's for employees only."

"I let them come down here, Carol," Thorton said, stepping out from behind Sephiroth. "We've been having a terrible time upstairs! A strange man has been wandering all over the store, leaving confusion and destruction in his wake! And he keeps vanishing into thin air." He gestured wildly with his hands. Sephiroth merely crossed his arms, ignoring the over-dramatic display.

Carol frowned, setting her book on the desk. "Was he supposed to have come down here?" she asked. "Because I haven't seen anyone, not even the other staff."

"He unlocked the door to the offices and locked the door to the basement!" Thorton declared. "And he must have stolen my keys!"

"And he should have came down here within the last five minutes," Linda frowned. "Are you sure no one went past you? You get so wrapped up in your books that you usually end up ignoring everything else."

"Well, I didn't this time," Carol retorted. "I was paying attention."

Zack slapped his forehead. "So the guy just went _poof?!_ How can he keep doing that?" He walked ahead, peering into a room on the other side of the desk. It was vacant.

"Are there any secret entrances or exits in the building?" Sephiroth asked, looking to Thorton.

The man looked bewildered. "Secret . . . of course not!" he declared. "I'd know if there were any."

Linda walked past them, turning to the right to look in the rooms accessible from the other end of the room they were in. When she was certain no one was looking, she placed her hand on the wall. With swift and silent precision, she removed what looked like a Post-It note.

"What's that?" Sephiroth immediately asked.

She froze. "It's . . ." She looked at it, as if seeing it for the first time. "Just a notice to call one of our dealers about something."

"That's an odd place for it," Sephiroth said.

She shrugged. "Yes, well . . . sometimes Carol sticks these in odd places," she said. Crumpling it, she slipped it into her pocket.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. For such a random note, she was going to great lengths to conceal it. Was she telling the truth about its contents?

Actually, when he thought about it, all that they had been going on for the mysterious man's second appearance was Linda's report. There had never been any sign of him since, save for the unlocked and locked doors that they had believed were indications of his presence. But there could be another explanation for those. And what if Linda had made up the story about the intruder upstairs? She might have been able to knock over at least one empty shelf, which could then in turn knock down all the rest. Then she could scream and pretend that someone had been there.

Of course, the problem was motive. Why would Linda make up such a thing?

Maybe he was completely incorrect with this line of thinking. But to solve any mystery, one had to consider every possible option. Later, he would need to find a way to get Thorton to give him more information on his employees. The man liked to chat, so it should not be such a difficult task. Thorton would probably not even realize that Sephiroth was counting them as suspects. He would be much more likely to give information if he did not realize those intentions.

* * *

Cloud and Angeal were having their own problems. As they entered the main room, no one was in sight except Vivalene, who was leaning against the glass counter and watching them. With her free hand, she flipped her red curls over her shoulder.

"Well," she purred, "so at last some of the men are coming back. It really was hard to concentrate on anything upstairs after all that dreadful racket."

"Did you see the guy?" Cloud asked.

She sighed. "No, I was over in the far corner, admiring the old jukebox. Quaint little thing that it was, it seemed to have selections from the sixties right on through to today. I was lamenting over it not being plugged in when I heard all those shelves collide and that woman scream. And I did hear footsteps running away."

Angeal frowned. "The jukebox was where we could see it when we arrived," he said. "I didn't see anyone standing by it."

"Well, as soon as I heard the footsteps, I hurried in their general direction," Vivalene smiled. "But I got distracted by some lovely old jewelry one of the vendors had. I was quite out of sight when you came upstairs. I heard you and your friends running down those other steps, and then I turned and went back down the front way to see if I could catch the disrupter coming into the main room. Unfortunately, I didn't see anyone." She pushed herself away from the counter. "But that doesn't matter now that you lovely men are here. Tell me, are you taken?" she purred at Cloud.

Poor Cloud immediately flamed red. "That's none of your business," he mumbled.

Vivalene was only further amused. "Oh darling, you're so cute when you're blushing," she declared.

"I'm not blushing," Cloud retorted.

In spite of himself, Angeal was a bit amused. But at the same time, he could scarcely comprehend the woman's brazen behavior. It was understandable why Thorton had said it was embarrassing for her to flirt with all the male customers.

At that moment the front doors opened as Sephiroth, Zack, and Thorton entered. Cloud whirled to look in astonishment.

"How did you guys get over there?" he demanded, walking over to the center aisle to meet them. "I thought you were in the red room."

"It's a long story," Zack sighed. "Basically, we went through a door at the back that led to some offices and also downstairs. It's an employees only thing."

"And no one was down there!" Thorton moaned. "Well, except for Carol. . . . But she didn't see anyone go past!"

"We went up the steps leading to the outside entrance," Sephiroth said. "No one was outside or in the alley."

Angeal crossed his arms. "What happened to the girl that was with you?" he asked.

"She went back up the way we came down," Zack said. "She was worried about getting to the top floor to see to any customers there."

"Hmm," Vivalene mused. "She certainly didn't seem in a hurry to assist me when I was there."

Thorton stared at her. "Linda always tries to make sure the customers' needs are seen to," he said. "Right now she was probably especially worried about those shelves . . . oh goodness!" he exclaimed. "Those shelves are heavy. It usually takes two men to get them up. Maybe she's planning to pick them up all by herself!"

"I'll go up and help," Zack volunteered.

"And you still need to investigate things in the storeroom," Sephiroth said, looking to Thorton.

Was it more than coincidence that the crash upstairs had come as soon as Thorton had been going to look through the storeroom? What if the spy had wanted to keep them away from there until something could be taken that Thorton would be able to identify? It was a possibility that would have to be seriously considered.

"I'll see you in a bit!" Zack now called with a wave, turning to hurry up the stairs.

"Yeah," Cloud answered, a bit distracted as he followed Thorton and the others to the storeroom. "See you."

Mainly he was distracted because Vivalene was inviting herself along. The coquettish redhead sashayed through their midst, staying close to Sephiroth as they made their way into the second room and then the third.

"You didn't ever mention your current status, darling," she purred.

"Unavailable," Sephiroth responded without hesitation. "That is not only my current status, but past and future as well."

"Oh darling," Vivalene moaned, "you crush me!"

Cloud exchanged a bemused look with Angeal. Until Vivalene left, or unless they could figure out if there was some deeper reason for her hounding them, time was going to crawl past.

* * *

Zack hopped up the last remaining steps to the top, landing with a satisfied _thump_ on his feet. His hands flew to his hips as he surveyed the upstairs. It really was a neat room. He had not been able to properly admire it when they had come up a few minutes ago. To his right were a couple of couches, an end table, and some kind of old bookcase. In front of him to his left were the shelves filled with all sorts of interesting Earth memorabilia. And directly in front of him were the toppled shelves. Linda was indeed struggling to lift one on her own; one was already upright, but teetering dangerously as the second one stubbornly bumped against it.

"Whoa! Need some help?" Zack chirped, hurrying over to assist in sliding the second set of shelves away from the first.

Linda gave him a grateful look. "Thank you," she said. "I really should have waited for someone to help, I guess. I just don't like imposing on anyone. And Mr. Thorton's really not strong enough to lift these things."

Zack gripped it tight. "Well, with two of us working we should be able to get done pretty quick!" he chirped. "Ready?"

She nodded.

Together they were able to raise the heavy set of shelves. Placing it next to the one in front of it, they went to work on the third one. Before long all the shelves had been righted without incident.

"Thank goodness nothing was on them," Linda sighed. She gave a shudder as she looked towards the filled shelves along the wall. "So many valuables, in existence for decades, could have been broken just in a few seconds."

Zack gave a low whistle. "That wouldn't be easy to explain to your dealers," he said.

"To put it mildly." Linda ran a hand through her short hair. "And it wouldn't be cheap for us, either."

She gave Zack a curious look. "You said the man who did this sounded like someone who had been bothering you and your friends downstairs," she said. "Why did he find what you were saying to be so interesting?"

Zack gave a nonchalant shrug. "Dunno," he said. "If we ever catch up to the guy, I wanna ask him."

She reached out to straighten a shelf that was ajar. "I hope it doesn't sound like I'm prying, but what were you talking about?" she asked. "Since that man disrupted things all over the shop, including up here, I'd really like to know."

The problem was that Zack was not sure he should say, especially in light of Seph's suspicions about her. But on the other hand, Thorton would probably make some mention of the reason for the visit, and the police would be arriving soon--if they were not already downstairs by now. So maybe a partial truth would suffice.

"We came to tell him about his niece," he said at last. "Seph found her hurt last night, and today she disappeared from the hospital."

Linda frowned. "Why didn't the police tell Mr. Thorton last night?" she demanded. She sounded genuinely angry.

"They couldn't," Zack hurried to say. "She didn't have any ID on her! We just found some business card for this place when we went to poke around the hospital today, so we came here to see if anyone could tell us anything. And Thorton talked about his niece Jessie. She sure matches the description of the girl Seph found, at any rate. It'd be too much of a coincidence if it wasn't her."

The woman crossed her arms. "Why would she disappear from the hospital?" she exclaimed.

Well, Zack was certainly ending up spilling stuff he had not meant to say. But, he reflected, maybe this was good. He could keep monitoring her reactions. So far, she was a great actress if she was not really as concerned as she appeared.

"Somebody beat her up," he said, his voice and expression completely serious. "They wanted to make it look like a mugging, but it wasn't. See, Jessie found out some stuff that she wasn't supposed to know. And they didn't like it."

By all indications, Linda was shocked by what she was being told. Her eyes widened. "And now they've taken her to make sure they kill her?!" she cried. "What was it she found out?"

"Some . . . internal problems at our company," Zack said, proud of himself for the professional way of speaking. "We run Jenova Corp."

Her eyes flickered with surprise. "You do?" she said. "And you have time to go chasing down missing employees?"

Zack rubbed the back of his neck. "Well . . . not all the time," he admitted. "Actually, we've never had this problem before. But we've gotta do everything we can to find her, in case it's not too late!"

"So you can solve the problems at your company, I guess." Her voice had hardened. "Not because you're worried about her safety."

Lavender eyes flashed. Now she had hit a nerve. "Of course we're worried about her safety!" he snapped. "What kinda monsters do you think we are?"

She frowned further. ". . . I'm sorry," she acknowledged then. "I've . . . had some bad experiences with businessmen before. I just automatically think of big-name CEOs being concerned only for themselves and their neat little nest eggs. It isn't fair of me, I know, but old habits are hard to break."

Zack sighed, the fury fading. "Nah, it's okay," he said. "We've had our share of crummy business people too."

He blinked as a crumpled paper on the floor caught his eye. Was that the same one Seph had seen her putting into her pocket? He reached down with a casual air, glancing at the writing as he picked it up.

_The diamond rose glass will have to wait._

The thing made no sense whatsoever. He looked over to Linda, waving the paper as he held it out. "Did you drop this?" he asked.

She looked over to him. Immediately her eyes widened. "I did!" she asserted. Somehow she managed to stay outwardly calm as she took it from him, though her eyes showed that she would rather have snatched it away.

Zack hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "Is that important?" he asked, his voice still casual. "It looks more like something for the trashbin, being scrunched up like that."

She shrugged, replacing it in her pocket. "It's just something silly," she said. "I'll throw it away later."

"What's a diamond rose glass, anyway?" Zack asked, deciding to take a chance and be more bold. "It sounds kinda pretty."

"I don't know what it is," Linda answered. "I've never heard of one before."

"Yeah?" Zack blinked innocently. "I thought maybe it was something like what you've got here on display. There's all kinds of glasses." He looked to the goblets cut in blue, green, and violet tints.

"A diamond rose glass would probably be very expensive," Linda said in a noncommittal tone. "Anyway . . ." She gestured around the room. "You're welcome to explore, if you want. You might find something of interest, even without the rose glass."

Was she saying it like that to be facetious? It was hard to know. But Zack gave no indication that he wondered. "Sounds good to me!" he said. "Hey, do any of these dealers have any action figures? Uh . . . Cloud's adopted son really likes them," he hurried on. And it was true enough; Denzel was a big fan of action figures, especially very articulated and detailed ones. But Zack was a big fan too. Over the past few months, he had been fixing up a room to showcase his growing collection of Star Wars, superhero, and other figures. The others, especially Angeal, were amused by Zack's fascination. But Zack always insisted that he had never had anything like that at Gongaga and he was now experiencing his second childhood.

Linda smirked in amusement, seeming to understand Zack's quick cover-up. "One of our dealers has nothing but G.I. Joes," she said, "many of them still new and sealed in their packages. They're over in that corner." She gestured to the far right of the room.

Zack's eyes lit up. "Great!" he chirped, heading in that direction.

"And a lot of collectors are adults like you," Linda went on, still smirking. "You don't have to hide it. I think you're the first big businessman here who's been interested, though."

"Good for me, then!" Zack declared.

It was heaven upon arriving at the G.I. Joe corner. Boxes upon boxes of fairly recent Joes, mostly out of print, lined the shelves. Using his genuine desire to browse as a partial cover, Zack kept an eye on Linda as he searched through the toys. For a moment Linda observed him, still amused as she did so, but then she half-turned away. Of all things, she was gazing at the glass display. And the note had found its way out of her pocket. She fingered it absently without looking at it, staring off at the wall beyond the glasses. Then she shook her head, slipping the crumpled Post-It note back into her pocket.

Zack frowned, looking down at the figure that had found its way into his hands. Something was up with that girl and her note. If only it would be easier to figure out what.

* * *

The police, meanwhile, had indeed arrived downstairs. But questioning Thorton and Carol did not help them learn anything new, and Vivalene insisted she knew nothing more than "what the nice boys had said." After journeying upstairs and speaking to Linda and Zack, the officers opted to leave--though they did have one possible, worthwhile clue. Thorton had provided them with a picture of Jessie, hoping that it would help them find her. He also gave one to Sephiroth.

The storeroom had also been examined, but as expected, Thorton had not found anything strange or out of place. The half-filled boxes of books, he had explained, were because some of them seemed defective and he was still trying to decide on their reduced price. It sounded logical enough, so Sephiroth and the others had not queried further.

"Where on earth is Dave?" the man fretted as Sephiroth and the others prepared to leave shortly afterwards. "I thought for certain he would be back before you left."

"You said he was just picking up an order?" Zack blinked, shifting the bag of G.I. Joe purchases in his hand.

"That's right," Thorton nodded. "What if he's gone missing now too?!"

"Did you try calling his cellphone?" Angeal asked.

"I did, but it's just on voicemail," Thorton sighed. "He always does that when he's going to get something. He doesn't think the meetings should be interrupted by phone calls."

"He's got a point, but what if it's important?" Cloud frowned.

Zack nodded. "Yeah, like needing him to get something else?"

Thorton ran a hand through his hair. "He's supposed to check his voicemail before he leaves to come back," he said. "So I guess all I can do is keep waiting."

"Do you honestly think something may have happened to him?" Sephiroth asked.

"I don't know anything anymore!" Thorton exclaimed. "Burt always overreacts and I tell him not to, but now after all this, _I'm_ the one feeling hysterical!"

"Hey, you've got good reason," Zack said.

Sephiroth folded his arms, looking to Thorton. "You also said that Jessie didn't get along well with Dave," he said. "She wouldn't have told him about her problems, would she?"

Thorton looked bewildered. "I don't think so," he said. "Not unless he caught her in the act of talking to Marcel or something and she felt forced to tell him."

"Or unless she actually felt that he would be an ally, in spite of their disagreements," Sephiroth said.

"That seems so strange to think about," Thorton frowned.

"Where was he going to pick up the order?" Cloud asked.

"It was . . . oh, I don't remember that either," Thorton sighed. "If he doesn't come soon, and I can ever remember where he was going, maybe I'll drive out and see. I might even find Jessie there, too."

"Don't do anything foolish," Sephiroth retorted. "If there is trouble, and you walk into it, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Call us if he doesn't come back!" Zack put in.

Thorton blinked. "Are you sure?" he wondered. "I don't like to get you into danger."

"We're already in it!" Zack said. "And we're good at fighting!" He exchanged glances with the others, who nodded. They needed to follow up every lead possible to solve this mystery. If Dave really did disappear, it would seem too much of a coincidence.

"Do you trust all of your employees?" Sephiroth asked now. It was a very blunt question, but he did not care. His original plan had been to be more subtle, but by now he had gotten fed up with all that was happening. And he had decided that Thorton should be aware of any possibility that his employees were up to something, even if he did not want to consider it. There was also the chance that if Dave had vanished, it was not because he had been caught by their enemies. He might _be_ one of them. And Linda's behavior had been odd too, especially about that note.

When Sephiroth thought about it, there was also how Carol had insisted she had not seen anyone. That still seemed preposterous. Someone surely must have gone past, even if it had been an inside job. Possibly it could have been Carol herself. Linda could have knocked down the shelves while Carol had unlocked and locked doors, safely retreating to her desk before anyone came down to investigate.

Then there was the problem of the missing keys. They could have really been taken by an outside source, but on the other hand, an employee could have taken them to give that illusion.

"Of course I trust them!" Thorton exclaimed. "They've been nothing but loyal, hardworking people. I don't know where this shop would be without them." He tapped the edge of a trading card on the glass counter. "Carol was Jessie's friend from college. She was looking for a job a couple of years ago and Jessie recommended her to come here. Dave was an ex-boyfriend of Linda's sister."

Just as Sephiroth had hoped, Thorton was becoming chatty about them. "And he came here on Linda's advice?" he asked.

"Something like that," Thorton agreed.

"How did Linda get here?" Zack asked.

Thorton leaned back, his card-tapping actions growing more agitated. "Oh . . . she'd fallen on hard times," he said, his tone growing vague. "I've known her since she was a lot younger and offered her a job here."

"Hard times?" Zack repeated. Instantly he thought of what she had said about selfish businessmen. Could some past experience with an unkind company have had anything to do with her outlook?

"Yes," Thorton nodded. "But you'd really need to ask her about that. Suffice it to say that I trust her and the others completely!"

Sephiroth nodded as well. Outwardly it would be best to agree at this point. But inwardly he could not help thinking that none of them could be removed from the suspect list yet.

* * *

When they finally arrived at Jenova Corp, Sephiroth promptly went to work looking up Jessie Thorton on the supercomputer, while Cloud investigated Marcel. Zack and Angeal stood by, observing the results.

"She isn't here," Sephiroth grunted after a moment. "They _have_ deleted her file."

"Here's a Marcel," Cloud announced. But then he stared in disbelief. "Now it's gone!" he exclaimed.

"Gone?!" Zack ran over to look. _File not found_ flashed across the screen.

"Someone's in the database right now," Cloud frowned. "They must have deleted it right while I was looking at it."

"But why did it take them this long?" Angeal's eyes narrowed. "It's almost as if they know we learned about Marcel, whereas before they didn't think we would find out about him."

"The eavesdropper must have heard us talking to Thorton about it," Sephiroth said, highly irritated by this twist.

Cloud leaned back. "There's only one thing I caught before it went bye-bye," he said.

"'Bye-bye'?" Sephiroth inserted.

Cloud ignored him. "I saw his address," he said, grabbing a piece of paper to scribble it down.

"Yes!" Zack pumped the air with a fist. "So now what?" he wondered. "Are we going there to check it out?"

Sephiroth nodded, standing up from his desk. "It's our best lead at the moment," he said.

"And the adventure continues," Angeal said, getting up as well.

* * *

The address given was in a lower middle-class area of the city. The homes were pleasant and well-kept, with children playing down most of the streets. The block where Marcel was supposed to live was not an exception. Sephiroth swerved to avoid a group of children running across the middle of the road, the car's tires screeching in protest. His eyes narrowed as he watched the youth. They seemed to be heedless and uncaring of the danger, yelling to each other as they tossed a ball around.

Zack rolled down the window. "Hey!" he called. "You kids are gonna get hurt if you're not careful!"

One of them waved, but they were too occupied with their game to really listen. Zack sighed, slumping back against the seat.

"Their parents should teach them better," Sephiroth grunted.

"Sometimes not even that helps," Cloud commented, crossing his arms.

"They'll learn in time," Angeal said.

"Yeah, but what'll have to happen first?" Zack propped himself up on the inside of the door, idly staring out at the houses they were passing.

Suddenly he blinked, sitting up straight. "What happened to that place?!" he exclaimed, pointing to the skeleton of a building on the corner. "It looks like the whole place burned!"

"It does," Angeal said, his eyes narrowing. There was barely anything left of even the frame. The already dilapidated house had crumbled under the pressure of the hungry flames. And whereas the other yards had snow, this one had only the scorched and dead grass. Any snow had melted away during the course of the fire.

A sinking suspicion began to grow in Cloud's heart. He took out the piece of paper, looking at the scribbled address and then up at the surrounding houses.

"Great," he muttered.

Sephiroth grunted. "I'm guessing that was Marcel's house," he said.

Cloud nodded. "Another dead end." He slumped into the seat, staring at the wreckage. Helplessness and discouragement began to wash over him. Of course something had to go wrong again. They had been so close! His eyes narrowed in frustration.

"Hey," Zack spoke up then, "someone's over there!"

Instantly all eyes turned to look. Sure enough, a mysterious figure was disappearing around a sagging corner. And it looked like whoever it was had on a dark ski jacket and wool hat.

"The eavesdropper!" Zack exclaimed.


	6. The Box

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze for plot help! A certain part of this chapter was inspired by the 31 Days theme "As I break this chair..." It should be pretty obvious which part.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"Eavesdropper?!" Cloud repeated in shock.

"Yeah!" Zack leaped out of the car. "Let's catch him this time!" With determination in his eyes he flew forward, not trying to be quiet. With four good fighters--three of them former SOLDIERs--the spy did not stand a chance of escape.

There he was, as soon as Zack rounded the corner! The guy turned, looking at the spiky-haired man coming after him. Then he whirled back, going to try to run again. Zack caught up from his left, grabbing his arm. Sephiroth suddenly appeared at his right, taking hold of that arm. Cloud and Angeal came from behind.

"You're not getting away this time!" Zack declared. "We want some answers. Were you spying on us at the bookshop?"

The well-built man struggled against them, frustration flashing in his eyes. These people should not have been able to catch up to him. Had they known he would be here, or was this just coincidence? Either way, this had not been in his plans.

"Even if I was, that doesn't help you," he sneered.

"It helps us know something rotten's going on!" Zack retorted.

Sephiroth reached up, pulling off the man's ski cap. Shaggy brown hair bounced free, spilling over the muscular shoulders. The unfamiliar man watched the other, as if expecting a reaction, but Sephiroth's expression did not change.

"What is your name?" the silver-haired man asked, his tone firm and unrelenting.

"Puddingtame," smirked the captive.

"We're not in any mood for games," Angeal said.

"You're making rhymes," the brown-haired man grinned.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Why were you listening in to us?" he spoke up, as he and Angeal walked around to face the stranger.

"I was paid to," the guy said in defiance.

"And what're you doing out by this place?" Zack asked.

A shrug. "I build stuff," he said. "When I saw the place such a mess, I wanted to see if I could figure out whether it could ever be repaired."

"Do you know who this house belonged to?" Sephiroth wanted to know.

"Nope," was the retort. "I just hope whoever it was, wasn't here at the time. Doesn't look like it'd be easy to escape from."

Cloud watched him in suspicion. Was he sincere, or was he saying this just to try to get on their good side? He might be trying to appeal to their sense of compassion and ethics.

"Who wanted you to spy?" he asked.

"Somebody I don't know," was the retort. "They just left me messages with newspaper letters and money. They wanted me to find out what was being said when you guys went in the shop today, and I was up for some easy cash, so I went."

"Was that the first time you were contacted?" Sephiroth asked.

"No," the guy admitted. "I did a couple other jobs first." He looked from Sephiroth to Zack, and then to Cloud and Angeal. "I guess you want me to talk about them, right?"

Their stern looks were the answer.

"Alright already." The man shifted position. "But you're cutting off the circulation. Is it too much to ask for you to let go of my arms?"

Sephiroth's expression was unimpressed. "I doubt you'll suffer any permanent injuries if we don't."

"You're all heart." The captive sighed in resignation. "The first job was a couple of days ago. I was following some weird guy--black hair, pale skin, thin lips. . . . He didn't do much I could see was interesting, though. Just went around town, did some errands, got take-out at the Chinese restaurant. . . ."

Zack stared. "You were following Azazel Rakesh?!" he exclaimed. This was getting more ridiculous every moment. What did one of their archenemies have to do with all of this? The plot they were mixed up with was supposed to involve smugglers at their own company. Why would anyone connected with that mystery want to have someone from another company followed?

"Aza- . . . what kind of a tongue twister name is that?" the guy retorted. "I can't even say it!"

"I guess you don't keep up on big business," Cloud said. "He's the head of the board of directors for Fragmented Triangle."

A blink. ". . . Wow," was the response after a moment. "What'll they think of next--Broken Circle?"

"That's already been done," Sephiroth said, his voice flat.

"By the same guy," Zack added.

"And who cares," Cloud said. "What was the other job you did?"

The shaggy-haired man leaned back. "Following another weird guy," he said. "Big and broad, with light brown hair in a ponytail. He was wearing glasses and a tan suit. I was following him today, right before I got the assignment to spy on you guys."

Now Zack's mouth dropped open. "Dalton?!" he exclaimed. So the man _was_ alive. That was not really a surprise, and yet in connection with everything else, it was beginning to seem overwhelming.

Sephiroth frowned, considering this. "What did he do?" he asked.

"Kept running, even though his ankle had gotten twisted," was the reply. "Eventually he met up with the first guy I'd been tailing."

"Could you hear anything they said?" Sephiroth continued.

"Oh, so now you're hoping I _was_ eavesdropping," the guy smirked.

"Just answer the question," Cloud grumbled.

"I didn't really hear anything," came the answer. "But Ponytail acted confused or disoriented or something."

"Huh." Zack frowned. "Okay, how'd you get out of the storage room when I ran in after you?" he asked, shifting position as he stood on some of the debris. Broken glass crunched under his dress shoes.

"I just turned off the lights and slipped through the door," the man said.

"What was that vacuum cleaner noise?" Zack returned.

Their interrogatee looked genuinely confused. "What vacuum cleaner noise?" he said.

"There was a weird sound like a vacuum cleaner in the storeroom," Zack said.

"I must've been gone by then, because I sure didn't hear it," was the amazed response. "Maybe someone else was hiding in the room too."

Sephiroth was inclined to believe him. His amazement over the odd sound did not seem faked.

"Why did you cause such a commotion upstairs in the shop?" he said.

"Upstairs?" the guy blinked.

"Yeah!" Zack said in indignation. "Knocking over all those shelves and running off after the clerk tried to talk to you."

"And don't forget unlocking and locking those doors," Cloud said.

"Hey wait!" Now the man struggled against their grips again. "I never went back inside after I ran out the back way. And come on, I said I build things! Why would I want to knock down a whole bunch of shelves, maybe breaking them and anything else by them? Gives me chills thinking about it."

"You tell me why," Cloud said. "The clerk described you."

"I wasn't there, I swear it!" he exclaimed. "And I didn't do anything with doors, either."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. If this was the truth, then someone had apparently tried to throw suspicion on the spy--either by dressing up as him . . . or by lying about him being there in the first place. It only made Linda look even worse. If she was guiltless too, then they needed to catch the impostor to prove it. Or prove that this man was lying.

"Can you prove you were not in the shop after leaving the first time?" he wanted to know.

"Like having an alibi?" The shoulders slumped. "No, I guess not. I came here right after leaving the store."

"Why, exactly?" Sephiroth frowned. "Do you know who lived here?"

"I wish I did," the guy said, a bit of anger slipping into his voice. "The last note I got said to come here to report on my progress, so I come and find the whole place gave up the ghost. Plus, no one's around except the guys I was spying on." He gave them an odd look. "_You_ weren't sending the notes, were you?"

"Of course not!" Zack said in disbelief. "What kinda logic would there be in that?!"

"Not any, that I can see," the other said with a shrug.

"Do you have the notes?" Sephiroth asked.

"Sure," was the reply. "They probably wouldn't help you, but you can look anyway." He smirked. "They're in my pocket, so you'd have to let me go before I could get them."

Zack looked over at Seph. He was finding himself believing this guy too. He was probably not going to run away if they let go. And if he tried, they could chase and grab him again.

Sephiroth gave a slow nod. He released the captive's arm, Zack following suit with the other side.

"That feels good," the man declared, flexing his arms. Digging in his coat pocket, he produced four small pieces of paper. Sephiroth took them, looking through the vague and mysterious messages. He paused at the one that seemed to be the first.

_If you want to earn some easy cash, follow this man for three hours after he leaves this address._

It then gave what must have been the street and house number for the residence where the Rakeshes and Dalton lived. A picture of Azazel, clipped from a newspaper article, had been stapled to the note.

"This is crazy!" Zack exclaimed. "So whoever it is even knows where these guys live?"

"Did he ever seem to know he was being followed?" Sephiroth frowned.

"I don't think so," the man shrugged. "I'm good at what I do."

"What about the other guy?" Zack asked. "Dalton; did he know?"

A thoughtful blink. "I kinda think he did," was the reply. "Or maybe he really didn't and I just stumbled on him when he was having a different problem. The way he was walking fast and everything even though his ankle was messed up, he seemed like he was trying hard to get away from something. He acted kinda spooked."

"Dalton, spooked?" Cloud raised an eyebrow. That was probably an exaggeration, but still. Dalton was the most easy-going of the three of them--or at least, the one with the best calm facade. If he had acted tense in any way, then something was obviously wrong.

"I don't see any sense in having you come out here," Angeal said, looking to the shaggy-haired man. "Not unless whoever sent the messages wanted you to meet us. And that doesn't make sense either."

"It sure doesn't," Zack said. "What's your name anyway?"

A smirk. "Would you believe Shaggy?" replied the other in a deliberately obnoxious way.

Four unimpressed stares.

"Okay, so you're not cartoon fans." He brushed the wild locks away from his face. "Name's Casey."

"Okay, Casey," Zack returned. "How about you give us your address and phone number? Maybe we'll need to talk to you again. And if you hear any more from this crazy guy, we wanna know about it!"

"Yeah. Maybe you should leave a note for him, asking him why he didn't show up," Cloud said.

"Maybe so," Casey agreed, and then blinked. "But would I get any answer?"

"Probably not," Cloud said, slightly irritated that his mostly sarcastic comment had fallen flat.

Zack let out a sigh, peering at the notes Seph was still holding. "Oh well," he said, "at least we're getting the Rakeshes' address out of this. Maybe it'll be helpful sometime."

Casey shrugged, scribbling down his own address and phone number on a scrap of paper. "You need to know where they live?" He blinked. "And what are they--brothers or something?"

Zack gave a weak grin. "Well, there is another Rakesh brother, but it's not Dalton," he said. "Never mind about that." He accepted the paper from Casey, glancing at it before slipping it into his shirt pocket. "Thanks for talking to us."

"Hey, I didn't have much choice, if I wanted to save my arms," Casey answered, his tone purposely obnoxious again. "And since it looks like that guy's probably not going to show, I guess I'll have to forget it. I have other stuff to do." With that he brushed past Zack and the others, heading for the corner. "Later!" He ran off, vanishing around the bend.

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Well, that was fast," he said. "I wonder what that 'other stuff' is about. I wouldn't care if this didn't just seem really suspicious."

Zack crossed his own arms, frowning at the direction from which the strange man had departed. "You know, I have this creepy feeling that he still gave us a fake name, too," he said.

Sephiroth grunted. "I wouldn't be surprised, but what's your reasoning?" he asked.

"He wanted us to call him Shaggy," Zack said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like the character from those Scooby-Doo cartoons, I guess. And the guy who plays him is named Casey."

"Great," Cloud muttered.

Angeal was amused. "I didn't know you were that much of a cartoon buff," he commented.

"I'm not!" Zack protested. "I just remembered that one because I thought it was weird that the guy's last name was almost the same as his first."

"We can try contacting him if we want to know more," Sephiroth said, though he really did not believe that Casey was much of a threat. It was always possible, but right now he was more focused on examining some of the other odd angles to this case. He looked back to the remains of the house. "Let's look through the wreckage," he said. "Maybe we'll find something intact that would be a helpful clue."

"Maybe," Cloud agreed. "And the neighbors should be questioned, too. They might know how the fire started."

"I'll stay with Sephiroth and go through the debris," Angeal said.

"And me and Cloud can talk to people!" Zack chirped.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "It's not really that exciting," he said. He dreaded it, to be honest. They would probably either find people who did not want to tell anything, or else they would stumble across someone who was far too talkative, to the point of rambling about things that had no relevance. It could take ages just to question people at a few houses.

"Just let me do the talking and we'll be fine," Zack grinned, draping an arm around Cloud's shoulders.

The blond allowed a slight smirk.

"We'll reconvene in thirty minutes or less," Sephiroth said.

"Aye, aye, sir!" Zack gave a mock salute before turning to walk off the property. Cloud shook his head, following his friend.

Angeal turned back to face the demolished house, hiding an entertained smirk. Sephiroth noticed, but did not comment. After all, Zack would always be Zack, and both of them knew it.

Sephiroth walked ahead, passing under the collapsing doorway of the building. Of course there was nothing much to see beyond it, other than singed and rotting wood and twisted furniture. But under a broken chair, the glint of something metallic caught his eye. Frowning, he bent down for a better look. The dark green corner of a box was protruding from amid the debris. He pushed aside the chair, reaching for the container. It seemed to be loose enough, which was good because he did not want to spend a lot of time wrestling with it. With care he began to slide it out, soon revealing an oblong box of about eight inches by four inches in length. Splinters and dirt rained from its lid onto the ground as it came completely free. Ignoring that, he straightened up and studied the curious object. A brass latch was in front, with a small hole in its center. It required a key.

"What's that?" Angeal asked, coming up from behind him.

Sephiroth turned, his hair swishing with the motion. "I don't know," he said, pulling at the lid just in case he was wrong. It held fast. "It's locked." He moved the container from side to side, taking care in case something breakable was inside. "It's extremely lightweight," he reported. "It feels as if all that's inside may be some kind of paper."

"An important document?" Angeal suggested.

Sephiroth nodded. "It's possible." He frowned at the new clue. "We'd better hold onto this."

Angeal nodded. "It's strange that no one found it before," he said, crossing his arms.

"It depends partially on when the fire happened," Sephiroth said, shaking the rest of the dust off the box. "If it was at night, it might have not been seen when the search and rescue team was here. I only saw it now because the sun reflected off the corner."

Angeal was half-listening. The sound of voices had reached his ears and he had turned in that direction, his eyes narrowed. It did not sound like Cloud and Zack returning. Instead it sounded like two other men in a great hurry, possibly concerned over something. Sephiroth, having picked up on it as well, looked toward the direction Angeal was staring. They were in a cul-de-sac; no one could be coming from the other side of the street because another side did not exist.

"Let's cut through this yard," said the first voice.

"Really?" said the second. "Quite impolite of us, isn't it."

"I doubt anyone's home. Besides, there's no snow along here, so they can't follow our footprints." The sound came of a body leaping over a fence. "Can you make it, with your ankle?"

"Of course," was the slightly indignant response. The fence clanged again, but there was no sound of another form landing. He must be lowering himself more slowly because of his ankle.

Angeal turned to look at Sephiroth. The silver-haired man had tensed, his gaze riveted on the house next-door. Any minute the people who had jumped the fence would be coming into view. And from his expression, the voices were as familiar to him as they were to Angeal.

"It's Dalton," Sephiroth uttered in an undertone. "Dalton and Azazel."

Angeal nodded. "But why are they running?" he wondered. "Does it have anything to do with why someone hired that man to follow them?"

"They're going to be coming right this way," Sephiroth said. "I intend to ask them."

Sure enough, in a moment Dalton limped into view as he approached the side yard. Azazel followed alongside, his eyes narrowed and his stance tense. He seemed to be on the alert, expecting that any moment they would be cornered by whomever they were trying to escape. Dalton looked from one side to another and stared in surprise at the demolished house on his left.

"Hmm. . . . Someone must have left a match burning," he commented offhand as they reached the driveway. "One of the people who held me captive was a chronic smoker. Appalling habit. I'm not addicted to anything, am I?"

Azazel shrugged. "No," he said. "You drink a glass of wine now and then, but you know when to stop."

Dalton looked satisfied. "Good," he said.

Sephiroth frowned. "Something isn't right," he said.

"He acts like he has amnesia," Angeal noted.

"That could explain a few things," Sephiroth grunted, placing the green box on a ruined desk.

He stepped out of the house's skeleton and into the yard as the men next-door came to the end of the driveway. "I doubt a stray match brought down this house," he said, "unless it was deliberate."

Both Dalton and Azazel stiffened, turning to look. While Azazel raised an eyebrow in surprise, a flash of discomfort went through Dalton's eyes. But then he masked it with a smirk.

"Ah, Sephiroth," he said. "The president of Jenova Corp, I presume?"

Yes, Dalton definitely did not remember. This was the first time Sephiroth could even remember that Dalton had addressed him by name.

"That's right," Sephiroth said with a curt nod.

Azazel studied him with a frown. "And what brings you here?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, I think we're all involved in a mystery," Sephiroth said. "I was just speaking to someone who had been spying on me and the others. He claimed to have been hired to follow both of you as well."

Dalton frowned in disbelief. "Who on earth would be interested in mixing up all of us in a mystery?" he said. The memory of being told that someone from Jenova Corp had caused his fall was still very fresh in his mind. And though he still did not know that he believed it, he did not intend to let down his guard for one moment.

"I would like to know the same thing." Sephiroth watched his enemy with narrowed eyes. "I heard you mentioning that you were held captive. Maybe if we share our stories we'll be able to piece together what's going on." He did not trust Dalton, nor did he want to, but right now this was the best lead. And if their problems actually were connected, then they might be forced to work together for a while.

"Perhaps," Dalton said, not looking convinced. "Though right now we really can't be standing around for a friendly chat. Our location might be discovered at any moment."

"You were being followed?" Sephiroth asked, recalling the conversation he had overheard.

"Yes," Azazel said. "They're sure to realize we might have cut through a yard. And then they could easy enough find their way here."

A crash came from inside what was left of the house. The three men froze, whirling to look in that direction. Angeal was sprawled on the ground, staring at a trapdoor that had popped open in front of him. A man was coming out of the opening.

Seeing this, Dalton was all too willing to try to rout Sephiroth out of the area. "You seem to know Azazel," he said. "Maybe we can exchange telephone numbers later."

Sephiroth glowered. "Do you know that person?" he demanded, pointing to the scene.

By now Angeal had gotten up and was trying to restrain the newcomer. The thug fought against him, a gun clutched in a meaty hand. Angeal grabbed for the wrist, wrenching it so that the weapon was pointed towards a broken window. The gun went off, the silencer preventing any sound from being heard.

"I'm afraid that he has made my acquaintance," Dalton said. "He was one of the gentlemen so kindly keeping me in the basement of an old building."

Azazel drew out a gun of his own from his coat, clutching it in his still-natural left hand. "Then this is Fragmented Triangle business," he said in a smooth tone. "Jenova Corp doesn't need to stay."

"We're already involved!" Sephiroth retorted, turning to walk back to the house. The thug was punching Angeal, sending him backwards into the hazardous wall. It groaned and creaked in warning as the big man slammed into it. Seeing his chance, the gunman turned to flee. Sephiroth intercepted him, snatching the wrist of the hand that held the revolver.

Two other men emerged from the trapdoor now. Giving cursory glances at the scene around them, they tore past Angeal getting up and Sephiroth struggling with the first man. The second one focused on Dalton, firing as the big man came towards him. Dalton dodged the shot as Azazel retaliated by opening fire on their attacker. The third man attempted to hit Azazel, a wicked smirk gracing his features as he moved to pull the trigger.

Angeal could only stare in utter shock and disbelief at what happened next. An old chair rose into the air, as if moving of its own volition. With determined precision it struck the two gunners at the same time. They yelped in shock, crashing to the ground with the rotting furniture breaking apart over their backs.

Dalton was just as shocked. "Good heavens," he commented. "What was that?"

An unearthly laugh echoed through the dangerous space. The first thug turned to look, his mouth dropping open in disbelief at the sight of his cohorts and the chair. Sephiroth took the opportunity to deliver a knockout punch to the man's jaw. The other collapsed, the revolver falling into the debris. Sephiroth placed his foot on the handle.

Angeal drew out his phone. "I'm going to call the police," he announced.

"Good," Sephiroth said. "Do that, before they can get away." His green-eyed gaze swept the room, searching for anything that could be used to tie up their attackers. Then inspiration came. He dug into his pocket, taking out his tie. He had removed it earlier because it was such an annoyance to wear. Kneeling down, he wrenched the man's hands behind his back and bound them tightly with the black piece of cloth.

Dalton chuckled. "How ingenious," he said. "Unfortunately I don't seem to have a tie on my person at the moment."

Azazel whipped off the tie he was wearing underneath the tan winter coat. Crossing to one of the men still dazed by the chair, he took hold of the wrists and forced them together.

Angeal was already tugging on his own tie while speaking on the phone. He tossed the cloth to Dalton, who caught it and moved to tie up the last of the strange attackers. The thug muttered curses as his hands were restrained behind his back.

"You know, we really should have their ankles tied up as well," Dalton commented. "Otherwise, they technically could struggle up and depart before the police arrive."

"If you have any suggestions on what to use for rope, I'm willing to listen," Sephiroth grunted. Crossing to the trapdoor, he peered into the darkness. The passageway smelled musty and cold. Nothing seemed particularly different or striking about it. But how long had those men been hiding in it? And why? Had they planned to ambush Casey, but then had decided not to upon hearing all the extra voices? Maybe hearing Dalton had made them decide to come out after all.

"I still would like to know who used telekinesis on the chair," Dalton said.

"No one," purred another voice, similar to Azazel's. As Dalton stared, a carbon copy of Azazel began to make himself visible. But he remained translucent as he stood to the side, folding his arms over the ghost of a blue uniform.

"I threw the chair," he continued. "I couldn't have my dear brother shot, after all. Or my old business partner."

Dalton adjusted his glasses. "I see," he said, seeming quite intrigued. "We know each other then?"

"For over ten years," the spirit smiled. "You'll remember in time, I imagine."

"I do hope so," Dalton said. "You seem to be a fascinating person."

Sephiroth grunted. Apparently Dalton had no trouble adjusting to the fact that he was speaking to a ghost.

"Hey!"

Zack's voice suddenly rang out. As everyone started and turned to look, both Zack and Cloud were hurrying towards them from across the street. The spiky-haired men seemed stunned at the scene before them, but it was hard to say what they found the most appalling--that three men were tied up on the ground or that Dalton and the Rakeshes were standing over the defeated.

"What the heck happened?!" Zack gasped as he came to a stop in front of the open doorway.

"We were ambushed," Sephiroth said, his voice flat. "Did you have any luck?"

"Nobody knew how the house went up," Cloud frowned as he halted as well. "But a kid did remember seeing a shadowy guy outside the night it happened."

"Could he have purposely set it aflame?" Sephiroth wondered.

"I guess." Cloud looked to Dalton and the Rakeshes, his expression a clear question mark.

"What a coincidence, that our paths should cross," Dalton commented with an easy shrug. Cloud noticed he was looking Zack up and down. What was the purpose of that? Was he surprised that Zack had survived the fall over the cliff? There was a weird look in his eyes, as if he was not sure why he was looking at Zack at all.

And Zack had noticed it too. "What's the deal?" he frowned. "Are you already thinking about how you're gonna torture poor Seph next?"

"Torture him?" Dalton's tone was frustratingly vague. "Perhaps if we weren't all in such a pickle I'd be more inclined to ponder over what to do about such an enemy. Actually, when I was looking at you I was thinking that it seemed as though we shared a . . . harrowing experience."

"Only because you were trying to shoot Seph and Cloud and I had to stop you," Zack muttered.

"He doesn't want to let on, but he doesn't remember," Sephiroth interjected.

Well, Cloud could not help thinking, that did make sense. His expression when he had looked at Zack had probably indicated that he wondered where they had met before.

"It serves you right," he said, folding his arms.

"Hmm. Well, be that as it may, Sephiroth here did make an interesting observation," said Dalton. "All of us seem to be involved in this strange mystery. We could either exchange tales of our misadventures, or someone could investigate the tunnel these men came through. The police will be here soon enough, I suppose."

Angeal was standing over the trapdoor. "We can talk about things later," he said. "We should look this over now."

"Before the police come," Cloud nodded.

"I'll go down and investigate," Sephiroth said, moving to where the ladder was propped at the opening. "Someone needs to remain up here and guard these men." He eyed Dalton's ankle. "You can't make the trip down the ladder rungs."

"No," the other shrugged. "I'll stay up here, as you wish. Perhaps Azazel would like to go with you? After all, Fragmented Triangle does need to be represented."

"You don't trust that we'd tell you what we'd find?" Zack frowned.

"That would depend on what you would find, sir," Dalton answered smoothly.

"Nevermind," Azazel interrupted, irritated by the bad feelings that were taking precedence. "I'll go down with him." Replacing his gun inside his coat, he crossed the floor to the opening. He was not happy at the thought of working with Sephiroth and the others either, especially when he did have his memories. But he was not a contentious sort and was quite willing to go along quietly while it was necessary.

Sephiroth gave a curt nod. With that he descended the ladder, going as fast as he dared. The rungs creaked in an unpleasant manner, and the ladder shifted under his weight. It was not bolted down, probably so it could be moved if it needed to be. Upon reaching the bottom, Sephiroth switched on a flashlight.

There was nothing particularly interesting about the space; it was not furnished well, nor did it even contain crates or other things that smugglers might use. The floor was bare cement, with a tunnel stretching on for several yards before turning left. Narrowing his eyes, Sephiroth started down the path. Behind him he could hear not one, but two people coming down the ladder.

"I'm coming with you too, pal!" Zack announced as his feet hit the bottom. He hurried after his friend, not waiting for Azazel.

Sephiroth glanced over his shoulder. "Fine," he acknowledged. As long as Zack and Azazel would not get into any quarrels, he would much rather have Zack along than to be wandering the tunnel alone with an old nemesis.

"So what the heck is the deal with this place?" Zack frowned as they reached the bend. "Where's it gonna come out at?"

Sephiroth shook his head in weariness. "Who knows." The tunnel to the left did not seem any different than the one before it. Their footsteps echoed eerily as they proceeded. Behind him, he heard the click of Azazel's gun. He narrowed his eyes, turning to look to be sure that the weapon would not suddenly get pointed at him or Zack.

Azazel lowered the revolver to his side. "If we meet someone who wants to shoot, I'll retaliate before asking questions," he said, by way of explanation.

"And if you kill the guy, how'll you ask anything?" Zack retorted.

"Easy--I won't kill, at least not at first," Azazel said. "Not unless I have to."

Zack frowned, not sure that he trusted that Azazel had not been going to shoot them instead. He looked to Seph, who could only give him a "Don't let down your guard" expression in return.

"Maybe you should get in front of us," Sephiroth said to Azazel. "Since you have a gun ready." That would ensure that they would not be shot, as well as enabling them to keep an eye on the lanky man without turning around. Sephiroth was willing to work with his enemies, but they would have to prove themselves trustworthy.

"You didn't bring one?" Azazel returned, pushing his way past his old opponents. "Of course, how could I forget you hate them. And swords would be so inconvenient to use in here."

Sephiroth grunted. The truth was that, while he hated them, he was carrying a gun at the moment. He had taken the weapon from his desk before leaving Jenova Corp. But he was not in any hurry to let Azazel know that.

Up ahead, Azazel turned the next corner to the right. But soon he stopped. As Sephiroth and Zack came up to him, they found that he was standing in front of what seemed to be a dead end. He stared at the wall, his thin lips pulling down in an annoyed frown. Cobwebs decorated the ceiling, floor, and walls.

"If this was supposed to open from the other end, it doesn't look like it's going to," he said. "These webs haven't been broken."

Sephiroth turned to the other walls. They were the same. Maybe the smugglers stored things down here, if indeed Marcel was connected with them, but their only access to the tunnel was the way Sephiroth and the others had come.

"Here's something," Zack spoke up. Bending to the floor, he straightened holding a brass key. "Wonder what it goes to," he said, blinking at it. It did not look rusted or very old.

Sephiroth studied it. "It looks about the right size to open a lock on a box I found," he observed. "But would whoever dropped it really be that careless?"

"You found a box, Seph?" Zack said, turning the key between his fingers. "Where is it?"

"I left it upstairs," Sephiroth said. "It was too big to put in my pocket."

Azazel was still feeling along the wall. But it was no use; if there was a secret passageway, he could not find its trigger. He stepped back, frowning at the cold cement.

". . . The police are up there," he said, listening to the extra vibrations from people walking on the floor above. Other, unfamiliar voices were mingling with Dalton's, Cloud's, and Angeal's. Gunju, thankfully, had made himself scarce again, but the thugs were ranting about the phantom chair. A vague smirk passed across Azazel's features before vanishing.

"They're going to want to come down here, then," Sephiroth said, hearing the voices as well.

"And since we haven't really found anything, we might as well head on out," Zack said. "Do we need to show the police this key?"

"We should," Sephiroth said, "but let's try opening the box first."

Zack nodded, slipping the key into his pocket. "Okay then!" he chirped, hurrying past Seph. "Let's blow this joint and get back into the sunlight!"

"It was looking overcast when we came down," Sephiroth said in a matter-of-fact tone. "It might snow."

"Well, that's good too!" Zack asserted. Reaching the ladder, he quickly scrambled up. Amused, Sephiroth followed.

"You forgot about me going ahead of you," Azazel commented.

Sephiroth grunted. If Azazel had been planning anything, he would have done it before the police arrived. He was an irritation, but he was not foolish. Azazel likely knew the real reason why Sephiroth had wanted him in front, too.

With careful precision, Sephiroth moved up the ladder. The box, he noted as he arrived at the top, was still on the desk where he had left it. The police were currently loading the three men into the squad car, while Cloud and the others observed. He pulled himself onto the ground floor, crossing to the box. Zack was already there, waiting impatiently with the key.

"You could have opened it," Sephiroth said.

"I figured you should do it, pal," Zack said, "since you're the one who found it."

"That doesn't matter," Sephiroth said, but he accepted the key. Slipping it into the lock, he attempted to turn it. The mechanism clicked and the lid popped up. He pushed it back, studying the contents.

He had been right about there being little more than a piece of paper inside. But he had still not expected this kind.

"What is it?" Angeal asked as he and Cloud came over.

Sephiroth held out the box. "It's a photograph," he said.

Zack blinked, peering at it. It was a black-and-white photograph, to be specific, but it did not look that old. A teenage girl was standing in front of a large tree, smiling for the camera. At her side was another girl, who could not have been more than two. She had her finger in her mouth in a shy way, and was clutching at the older girl's leg.

"Wow, they're really cute," Zack said. "But why would a possible smuggler have this?"

"Here's where it gets even more strange," Sephiroth said. "The girl is Jessie Thorton. The picture must be ten years old or more, but I still recognize her."

"You're kidding!" Zack stared at Seph with wide eyes. "And that Marcel guy was hanging around Jessie, too."

"Maybe she gave him the picture?" Cloud suggested. "Or he could've just taken it."

"But why the box?" Zack exclaimed. "It's like whoever put it in here wanted to make sure it'd be safe."

"Or concealed," Sephiroth said. He had to wonder if there had been more in the box that had been taken away.

Azazel was hanging back, listening to everything that was being said. The picture meant nothing to him, and from Dalton's confused expression as he walked over, he felt the same. Azazel would be content to decide that this angle had nothing to do with them and that they could leave. But that would be foolish, allowing his bias to get in the way of logic. Every angle needed to be examined. All of this must connect in some way.

"So," Dalton said, "do tell us why this picture has any significance. Who is Jessie Thorton?"

"A woman who was beaten for knowing too much," Sephiroth said. "We're trying to find her."

"And I think we need to pay another visit to her uncle and ask about this little kid," Zack declared. He blinked at Dalton and Azazel. "You guys up for a trip to a bookstore?"

Dalton raised an eyebrow. "If it connects with this madness, then I suppose so," he said.

"There's antiques," Zack said as he moved to walk outside. "Maybe even some Oriental stuff."

"Really now," Dalton mused. "In a bookstore? How interesting. If I like what I see, I may frequent the establishment for pleasure."

Zack looked to Seph as the older man came alongside him. "Well, he's still got his personality intact," he commented.

"I'd be afraid if he didn't," Sephiroth answered.

"Just as long as he doesn't try gunning us down first chance he remembers," Zack muttered.

"Even if we have to work with him, there's no reason why we have to trust him," Sephiroth said. They crossed into the yard, heading for where the car was parked.

". . . And what're we gonna do with this picture?" Zack asked, suddenly realizing a new problem. "The police'll probably want it as evidence."

"We need to show it to Thorton first," Sephiroth frowned. "We're the ones this is happening to. I believe we are entitled to the photograph."

Zack sighed. "Man, I wish we had someone on the force who could help us," he said.

"Well, right now we're on our own," Cloud said as he and Angeal came up from behind. "Most of the officers are going to take the thugs to jail. A couple more are going to stay and poke through the house. Nothing would even happen with the box for a while, if we give it to them now. We should show the picture to Thorton and then take it to the police, if they want it."

"But they might consider that we were withholding evidence," Angeal frowned. "It was found here at a crime scene. The cause of the fire is still being investigated, according to the police. And this picture has to do with the missing woman."

"Maybe we'd better give it to them and then just describe the picture to Thorton," Zack said. "Or I could even take a picture of it with my phone! . . . Or maybe the police'd call him in to look at it. The last thing we need right now is even more bad press!"

Sephiroth closed the box, weighing the options in his mind. It was annoying, the thought that they did not have free reign here as they did on Gaia. With Shinra in charge of everything, and SOLDIER being the elite military force, there had certainly not been concerns such as getting in trouble for withholding evidence. But this planet certainly seemed more stable than Gaia.

"The police still need to drive the prisoners to the jail," he said, thinking of what Cloud had said.

"If you really believe that this Thorton can identify the photograph, let's simply take it," Dalton said, coming up to be on Sephiroth's other side. "Perhaps we can deliver it to the police at the same time they reach the station."

Sephiroth grunted. Dalton had the same idea that he and Cloud did.

"After all, they can't do anything with the box anyway until they reach the station," Azazel added.

Without responding, Sephiroth continued walking to the car. That was what they would try to do, then. It seemed the most logical, and it would waste the least amount of their time. If Thorton could tell them more about the picture, that could help the police as well as Jenova Corp.

"We have to make reports at the station about what happened with these guys, too," Zack said. "So you and Angeal need to take care of that, Seph. And Dalton and Azazel, too."

"We'll do it after we show Thorton the picture," Sephiroth said, unlocking the car. "And it should not be removed from the box. It may have fingerprints on it." He slid into the car, determined to hold the box on his lap.

The others began to get in as well. As Angeal eased into the driver's seat, his eyes widened in disbelief.

"Someone's already been in here," he frowned.

"What?!" Zack yelped. "What do you mean?!" He leaned forward to look.

Angeal was staring at a piece of paper taped to the steering wheel. In dark red ink, a short message had been typed.

_Jenova Corp and Fragmented Triangle will both be in pieces if they don't leave well enough alone._

_And so will everyone involved!_


	7. Ambrogio's

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze for plot help!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Zack regarded the death threat in outraged indignation.

"How did someone even get this in here?!" he exclaimed. "Wasn't the car all locked up?"

"It was," Sephiroth said with a frown. "Someone breaking into it should have set off the alarm, unless they were skilled enough to manage to get around it."

"And how did they manage to get around _us?_" Zack objected. "Wasn't at least one of us always where we could see the car?"

"Yeah, but there were other things to concentrate on," Cloud said. "Someone easily could've snuck this thing in while me and you were talking to people and Sephiroth and Angeal were fighting those creeps."

"Well, they certainly aren't a congenial lot," Dalton commented, reading the note over Angeal's shoulder. "And they seem to think we're all in this together, since they're threatening to decimate the lot of us."

Zack blinked at him with a frown. "Do you ever get unnerved at all?" he wondered.

Dalton shrugged. "It really wouldn't help matters to react to this, would it?" he said. "The whole purpose of the message is to unnerve us."

Zack crossed his arms. "Well, when you put it like that . . ." He sighed, leaning back into the seat. "So are we gonna hail down the police about this or not?"

Angeal peeled the note off the steering wheel, using a handkerchief just in case there were any fingerprints. "The person who put it here could still be in the area," he said. "If we tell the police now, maybe they can do something about it."

"And then there would be no excuse for not showing them the box with the photograph," Dalton mused. "Or do you plan to conceal it from them? Of course then we really might be in trouble for withholding evidence." This he said with a shrug. Hiding the box really would not bother him, but he had the feeling that Sephiroth and his friends would not want to do it at all because of their upright natures. When he thought of it, though, he did not see a great need to tell the police about the note. The culprit was likely far away by now. And the note, as far as he was concerned, was their own problem and not something that would help the police find that missing girl.

Sephiroth sighed. Both Angeal and Dalton had points. He really did not want to waste time and lose the chance to show the picture to Thorton. But on the other hand, it would help matters if the trespasser could be found.

"The police have driven away now," he said, looking ahead to the squad car. "Instead of trying to catch up, let's just go on with the original plan."

Zack nodded, looking around at the other occupants of the limousine. "Or maybe one of us could even stay behind to look for whoever left the note," he suggested.

"Then perhaps it should be that spirit," Dalton smirked. "If he found the culprit, he could haunt a little sense into him."

Gunju laughed as he appeared in the car. Zack started. The creep had been sitting right by him and he had not even noticed!

"I have a name," Gunju announced.

"Yes, and unfortunately I don't remember it," Dalton returned, completely unsurprised by the sudden manifestation.

Azazel sighed, regarding his brother with a put-out look. "Gunju . . ."

"And I'll take care of the search for you," Gunju added with a shrug. "I'll join you at the bookstore later."

"Don't try to scare anyone there," Azazel retorted as Gunju departed the limo.

Sephiroth had the increasing urge to massage his eyes. When this was over, he would be only too relieved to never interact with any of these people again. From Zack's expression, he felt the same. This was a nightmare waiting to happen.

"Before we leave, we should search the car for bugs," Sephiroth announced.

Zack's mouth dropped open. "You think they left one in here?!" he gasped.

"It's possible." Sephiroth was already turning around to examine the back of the seat.

Angeal reached down to feel between the seats in front. "There's nothing along here," he reported.

The entire group began a thorough examination of the car. But after some time, nothing had been discovered. They were forced to concede that hopefully they had not been bugged. As Angeal started the engine and drove away, they had to hope it was really true.

* * *

It was hard to say who was more surprised when they arrived back at Thorton Books and Antiques. Mr. Thorton himself was not behind the counter when the group entered. Instead, a harried younger man with short black hair was looking over the objects that had been placed on the glass shelves in the case. As he counted them up, he scribbled on a clipboard that was on top of the counter.

Zack exchanged looks with the others before stepping forward. "Uh, hello?" he tried.

The man started and looked up. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice abrupt.

"Hey, no need to get so uptight," Zack frowned, crossing his arms as he hoped that the guy did not treat all potential customers this way.

"We came to see Mr. Thorton," Sephiroth added.

"He's in his office, laying down," the man replied, not any less abrupt. "He doesn't need disturbances right now."

Zack stared. "What happened?!" he exclaimed. "We were here earlier and he seemed just fine then!"

"Oh, you were the crew trying to help him catch that weirdo?" The man shook his head. "He told me about you guys. He said you came to tell him about Jessie."

"That's right." Sephiroth looked at him. "Is your name Dave?"

A blink. "Yes," Dave admitted. "I came back from picking up an order and found Mr. Thorton in a state of hysteria. He'd just received a phone call about his niece."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. "What was said?" he demanded.

"They must think he knows something about this business," Dave said, anger seeping into his voice. "They told him that if he wanted to see Jessie alive, he wouldn't 'spill the beans.' And that they'd be sending another communication about how to get her back."

Zack's mouth dropped open in alarm. "Did they let him talk to her?" he asked. "So he'd know she really is still alive?"

"No," Dave frowned. "That's part of the reason why Mr. Thorton's so distraught. He said he wouldn't make any promises unless they let her come on the phone, and the caller said he couldn't do that because she was unavailable. Then he hung up."

"Was there a number on the I.D.?" Cloud frowned.

"Yes," Dave said, "but it was for a pay phone. Carol called the police anyway and they went to investigate, but I don't think they'll find anything. Whoever made the call must be long gone by now."

He looked at them all. "What is it you want to see him about?" he said.

Sephiroth indicated the box. "We were at the remains of a burned house and discovered something we thought he might be able to identify," he said. "It's a photograph that has his niece in it."

"It might make him more upset right now," Dave objected. "Maybe you should come back later."

"No, that's alright, Dave."

Everyone turned to look as Mr. Thorton appeared from a doorway in the wall behind the counter. He looked tired and pale, his hair in every direction. But his eyes were determined.

"I want to see the photograph," he said. "Please, everyone come back here." With that he stepped aside, making room for them to come through the doorway. Beyond it, the hallway with the offices was visible.

Sephiroth nodded, walking around the counter to get to the doorway. The others followed. Zack could feel Dave watching them. The guy probably thought they were a bizarre bunch, Zack decided. They did look rather mismatched, especially with the Fragmented Triangle crew.

Thorton led the group into his office, where his light was on and the rumpled couch had obviously been laid upon. A half-finished glass of water was on the edge of the desk, and Thorton hastily pushed it further along so it would not fall. Paper airplanes and origami creations were in various stages of completion on his desk, on top of the filing cabinet, and all around the room. One airplane had landed on top of his framed business license, and had apparently been there a while, as it was turning yellow.

The man grabbed up a handful of what looked like cranes from off a chair. "Sit anywhere," he said, dumping them into an open drawer in his filing cabinet.

"My, you do have interesting hobbies," Dalton commented, strolling further into the room.

"I don't usually do this," Thorton admitted. "It just happens when I'm bored or nervous. My brother Burt collects good luck charms and stress balls because he's edgy a lot . . ." He trailed off, blinking in confusion at Dalton. "Who are you, anyway?" he asked.

"He's Dalton," Azazel replied. "I'm Azazel Rakesh. We run Fragmented Triangle."

"Oh, I see. . . ." But Thorton looked even more bewildered.

"We just happened to run into them," Zack put in. "The guy that was eavesdropping here said he'd also been hired to follow these guys!"

Dalton raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he frowned. "We weren't informed of that incident."

Thorton sat on the edge of the desk. "More friends of yours?" he wondered.

"No," Sephiroth grunted. "For the moment, they're necessary allies." He held out the box, anxious to change the subject. "We found an address for Marcel and went to where his house should have been. It had been burned. This was found in the debris." He snapped open the lid, revealing the picture inside.

Thorton stared at it, his face draining of any remaining color. "It can't be," he murmured. "Why would Marcel have this?"

"What is it?" Zack exclaimed, concerned over Thorton's reaction. Maybe they should not have brought the photograph right now.

"It's Jessie with her sister," Thorton explained, passing a hand over his forehead.

"What happened to her?" Cloud frowned.

Thorton shook his head, staring at the picture with a far-away look in his eyes. "No one knows," he said. "She was in the car with their father--my brother Tom--when he was killed, but they never found her. Jessie was devastated. Of course, we all were, but she had been so close to her sister. . . ." He snapped back to the present. "I can't imagine why she would give this to Marcel!" he exclaimed. "He must have gotten it through some other means."

"You said Jessie wouldn't tell you how she knew Marcel," Sephiroth said. "What if she had gone to him hoping that he could find her sister?"

Thorton blinked, taken aback. "Well, I . . . hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "Their argument looked so intense. . . ."

"Maybe she'd found out he hadn't been able to learn anything," Cloud said. "Or maybe he was crooked and didn't even try, and he just wanted her money." He crossed his arms.

"Oh dear . . . !" Thorton looked sick. "And you think he might be connected with the smugglers that took her, too?"

"It's possible." Sephiroth frowned.

"Pardon me," Dalton interrupted. "What does this Marcel looked like?"

Thorton looked surprised but again repeated the description of the blond man with the crewcut. Dalton was less than pleased.

"He was one of the men holding me captive," he said. "In fact, I delivered a harsh punch to his jaw in order to escape."

"Why were they holding you captive?" Sephiroth looked at him.

"To be perfectly honest, they claimed to be smuggling through my own company, and that I endorsed it," Dalton said. "They tried to say that they were keeping me there while I healed from a . . . terrible accident." For the moment he decided to leave out the rest, that they had claimed someone from Jenova Corp had pushed him over a cliff.

Zack was stunned. "But Marcel works for Jenova Corp, not Fragmented Triangle!" he exclaimed.

Angeal's expression darkened. These mysteries really were connected. For some reason, both of their companies had been targeted.

"You don't say." Dalton's eyes narrowed. "This is an unexpected twist. The man gets around."

"Can you describe anyone else involved?" Sephiroth frowned.

"Oh, of course," Dalton said. But none of the other descriptions meant anything to anyone from Jenova Corp. The other people involved were all strangers, except for a couple Azazel remembered as being Fragmented Triangle employees.

"What was it they were smuggling?" Angeal asked then, hoping that by learning that information it would help with their own part of the case.

"They were smuggling small gems both in and out of the country by concealing them in the battery compartments of the electronics," Dalton replied. He dug into his pocket, pulling out the two-way radio he had purloined last night. Turning it over, he removed the battery door and held up the device. The jewels caught the glow of the lights overhead, shimmering and glistening in splendor.

"And they had these in every radio?!" Zack cried, reaching out to poke one of the gems. How could there be so many? Where would they all come from? Either these guys had a mine somewhere, they were stealing from someone else's mine, or the gems had been taken from various locations all over the world. This was big stuff.

"It would seem so," Dalton said.

Sephiroth looked at the jewels with thoughtfulness. A logical place from which the smugglers could operate was the shipping department. He had focused on it when he had searched for suspicious Jenova Corp employees, and it would not surprise him if Marcel worked there. But of course he did not plan to concentrate only on that department; there could be smugglers everywhere, depending on how large their operation was. And for it to include their rival company too, it must be extensive.

"Did Dave say why he was delayed?" he asked now, looking to Thorton.

The older man blinked. "Well, yes," he admitted. "He said when he got there, the order wasn't ready and people were scurrying around trying to get it done. He was really angry about it, too. Ranting and everything. He managed to get a good bluestreak in before I finally could interrupt and tell him about the telephone call."

"What did the voice sound like?" Sephiroth wanted to know.

Thorton frowned. "It was deep," he said slowly, "but not in a realistic way. It was almost like it was being electronically distorted by some portable device."

"Well, that's a big help," Zack moaned.

"Dave said the police went to where the person was calling from," Angeal said. "Where was it?"

A sigh. "Just a random pay phone near a restaurant," Thorton replied. "I think they said it's right outside the building, so they wondered if the caller might've been having lunch in there."

Zack stomach growled. "Maybe we should go stake the place out," he suggested. "Then we could have lunch, too! I dunno if I can think much more about this case on an empty stomach," he added, upon seeing Seph's raised eyebrow.

"What restaurant is it?" Cloud asked.

"It's some other nationality," Thorton sighed, "and now I can't remember whether it was French or Italian!"

Zack's mouth watered. "I hope it's Italian," he said. Images of spaghetti and pizza danced through his mind. At the moment he could not think of any French dishes except _escargo_, and that did not appeal to him in the least.

"I wrote it down somewhere," Thorton added, looking to the mess on his desk. "I hope I didn't already fold it into an airplane or a crane. . . ."

"I hope you didn't, either," Dalton returned.

Thorton eased himself off of his desk and walked to its other side. Brushing the origami to the side, he looked through the normal papers and other odds and ends covering his desk. At last he held up a jagged scrap of paper. "Here it is!" he declared.

Sephiroth took it, glancing over the scribbled contents before passing it to Zack. "You have your wish," he said. "It's Italian." He sighed, seeing Zack's hopeful look. "The police have probably already seen everything there that's worthwhile."

"But it wouldn't hurt to try, would it?" Zack said. "Maybe the guy eats there a lot and some other customers or the staff have seen him!"

Dalton peered over Sephiroth's shoulder at the slip of paper. "How odd," he said.

Sephiroth frowned, looking to him. "What is it?" he wanted to know.

"That restaurant is one that Marcel and his cronies frequent," Dalton said. "In fact, I believe I overheard one of them say that an associate of theirs owns the establishment. Or maybe it's that he's a silent partner."

Thorton stared. "Then this is a wonderful clue!" he exclaimed.

Sephiroth grunted. In that case, the police might or might not find anything. The criminals would probably be expecting officers to come. In fact, why would someone even make a call from a location near their establishment unless they were _trying_ to draw in the police?

"We'll go," he said.

"Yes!" Zack cried, punching the air with a fist.

Dalton gave him a sidelong glance. "I take it you're very much a fan of the culinary arts," he commented.

"Sure," Zack said, forgetting to be guarded around his enemy, "as long as I can eat them!"

Sephiroth smirked, but then frowned as he looked at Dalton. "Should you even be seen there?" he said. "If the restaurant actually is run by our enemies, they may try to imprison you again."

"In the company of so many people?" Dalton returned. "I quite doubt it. And do you really think I'd stay away, good sir?"

Sephiroth grunted at the return of the mocking address. "No," he retorted.

"Then let's be on our way," Dalton said, walking past Sephiroth to the door. "If I'm along, I may be of some assistance to you--especially if I see anyone there I recognize."

That was true. This alliance was still abhorrent on principle, but there was no getting around it. Sephiroth moved to follow after his enemy, the others trailing behind him.

"We still have to make one other stop first," he said, his voice flat.

Zack blinked, then nodded. "Oh," he said in realization, "the police department. Right." He looked at Dalton. "Are you gonna show them that radio thing?"

"Right now I'd rather not," Dalton said. "Since it's a radio from my company, I want to investigate on my own before bringing in the police."

"Okay then," Zack said. He could not really make any protests, since he and the others wanted to look into the smuggling at their own company with or without the police.

"Hopefully the police won't later find it in your possession and think you are involved," Sephiroth remarked. "Especially since you say the smugglers were trying to tell you that you are part of the racket."

"Hopefully," Dalton agreed, not appearing swayed by Sephiroth's argument.

Thorton watched them worriedly as they reached the door. "Good luck!" he called.

Zack turned and gave him a mock salute. "We'll need it!" he said.

* * *

Ambrogio's was located in a fairly high-class part of town. The buildings were well-kept, the sidewalks were pristine, and the neighborhood seemed safe and inviting--at least for a visit. The police had already come and gone, as the sextet had learned when they had taken the photograph to the station. Indeed, the officers had not found any trace of the caller--or anything else odd. Now, the phone booth was vacant and did not appear unusual in any way. The restaurant behind it featured a green awning over the door and large plate glass windows to see both in and out. Waiters in full tuxedos milled about, taking and delivering orders.

Zack glanced down at himself as he hopped out of the limousine. "Do you think we're dressed good enough to go in there?" he suddenly wondered. "Except for Dalton and Azazel, none of us brought suit jackets!" His tie was hanging loosely around his neck, underneath the open first button on his dress shirt.

Angeal eyed his appearance. "It'll be fine," he said. "But you should probably button up and tighten your tie." He was already working with his, which had been returned to him back at Marcel's house after the police had snapped handcuffs on the captured thugs. Azazel had long ago replaced his own, but Sephiroth's tie was once again wadded in his pocket. And his shirt was also unbuttoned at the top.

Unlike Angeal, however, Sephiroth saw no need to alter his current appearance. He walked up to the revolving door and pushed on it, admitting himself into the lobby. The others followed suit.

Zack was goggle-eyed at the sight of the many round tables and fancily-dressed people. At lunchtime it was certainly not as crowded as it would be that evening, but it was still impressive. Most of the guests looked like they were business people who were having combined lunches and conferences. One man in a corner, however, was alone--and drinking a glass of wine faster than he probably should have.

"Wonder what's eating him," Zack mused.

Cloud shrugged, not really caring. "Bad business deal?" he said. He turned his attention to the approaching host, who was regarding the strange party with a raised eyebrow.

"Good afternoon," the man greeted in a moderate Italian accent. "Welcome to Ambrogio's! Do you have a reservation?"

"No," Sephiroth said, unconcerned. With the number of vacant tables, they should not have any problem getting seats.

Indeed, the man nodded. "It is a good thing you didn't come at dinnertime, sirs," he said. "We're almost always filled to capacity! Come." With that he unhooked the red velvet barrier to let them through. As he watched them come in, his gaze rested on Dalton for much longer than the others. Dalton returned the look in cool defiance. The headwaiter finally shook his head, looking away as he stepped to the right.

"We have available tables in all directions," he said. "Do you have any preference?"

"Something with as few people around as possible," Sephiroth replied.

"A corner table then?" the host suggested, already weaving his way around the furniture. The others trailed after him, shooting inconspicuous glances at the customers when they could. No one looked familiar. And no one seemed interested by them, either.

At last the man came to a halt by a table near one of the large windows. "Is this suitable?" he asked, turning to look at the party. In addition to being in the corner, the area also featured a railing that came halfway across the aisle, further isolating them from the other customers.

Sephiroth nodded. "This is fine," he said, stepping forward to take a seat.

"Very good," the host said, watching as the others moved to the table as well. "The waiter will be with you shortly." With that he departed. Cloud noticed that he paused by a cook emerging from the kitchen. He spoke in an undertone, nodding in their direction. The cook looked over, seeming thoughtful as he nodded in response. Then the headwaiter walked on, disappearing around a corner.

"That was weird," Cloud frowned.

"Do you think we should order anything at all?" Zack wondered, even as his stomach rumbled. He winced, listening to it. "I mean, what if the guy's planning to poison us?" he rushed on, clapping a hand over his mid-section. "He was telling something about us to that cook."

Sephiroth looked to Dalton. "Did the smugglers act like they still required your services?" he asked.

"I believe so," Dalton said, leaning back in the chair. "They seemed to want me alive, though now that I've escaped I suppose I'm not sure what they want from me."

"Oh no!" Zack suddenly gasped, slapping his forehead.

Everyone turned to look at him. "What is it?" Sephiroth frowned.

"Gunju didn't turn up while we were at Thorton's," Zack said. "If he goes there and finds we're not there, maybe he'll scare Thorton trying to find out where we are!" He ran a hand over his eyes. "I don't know if Thorton can take another shock today."

Azazel gave a dark chuckle. "Gunju will find us," he said. "He always seems to."

Zack blinked at him. "You mean he has some kind of spirit sixth sense or something?"

"More like a brother sixth sense," Azazel shrugged.

"Oh? You're close, then?" Dalton wondered.

"He's my brother," Azazel said. "We don't hate each other."

To Zack, that sounded very vague and almost as if Azazel was saying that they did not like each other a great deal, either. He and the others had only rarely seen the Rakeshes interacting, though Azazel usually acted put-out when they did. Gunju had protected Azazel from being shot today, according to Seph, and he had called Azazel his "dear brother", but it could have been said mockingly for all they would know. It was hard for Zack to believe that such cruel people as Dalton and the Rakesh brothers could care about anyone, including each other.

Apparently Gunju thought the same as Zack when it came to Azazel's comment. "Ouch," his disembodied voice purred from the direction of Azazel's chair.

Zack nearly tipped over in his own chair. "Don't _do_ that!" he burst out, glaring at the empty space--which, of course, would look ridiculous to anyone passing by.

"And don't make yourself visible, either," Azazel muttered. "We may have walked right into the enemy's lair." He stared at the menu as he spoke, not giving any indication that he was startled by his brother's sudden greeting. Over the years he had learned to steel himself for Gunju's abrupt entrances--though he had definitely been shocked the first few times it had happened.

"Understood," Gunju's voice answered now, as if he was in a spy movie. "I didn't find who wrote that note."

"You didn't go scaring the guy who owns the bookshop, did you?" Zack frowned.

"No," was the reply.

The sound of a throat being cleared brought everyone's attention upward. A waiter had approached their table and was standing with a pad and pencil, looking uncomfortable. Zack suddenly flamed red. If the guy had heard Gunju, hopefully he would just think it was Azazel throwing his voice.

"May I take your orders?" the waiter asked.

"Sure thing!" Zack chirped, and promptly ordered lasagna. That was agreeable to everyone else, so they decided to order one full pan. The waiter, pleased to have it taken care of so quickly, nodded and turned to leave.

"I can watch them making it in the kitchen, if you're worried they'll poison it," Gunju said to Azazel. It should have been a whisper, but from the others' expressions, it looked like all of them had heard. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. The waiter was walking away, so if they were lucky at all, he had not heard the comment.

"Do that," Azazel said with a wave of his fake hand.

Zack slumped back into the chair. "Well, that's . . . handy," he said, for lack of something better to contribute. It was hard enough to know how to fully relax and be himself in the presence of their past enemies, and when all of them had a mutual nemesis possibly watching them right now it got even more complicated. He shifted in his seat, looking to Seph.

Sephiroth met Zack's uneasy glance. They would have to act as natural as possible if they did not want anyone here to grow suspicious--or at least, to keep them from growing all the more so. Of course, when Jenova Corp and Fragmented Triangle were not on friendly terms, it would look extremely unnatural to make-believe that they were getting along fine. Zack's awkward comment, if heard by any enemies, would likely help to establish their strange and unsettled alliance.

Azazel looked to Dalton, lowering his voice. "Do you think they want to kill you for knowing too much?" he asked in an undertone.

"It's always possible," Dalton said. "Except they probably realize by now I've already spoken of what I know. I wonder if they discovered the missing device?"

"Unless they're stupid, it's not likely that they didn't," Sephiroth grunted.

"Well, they aren't complete imbeciles," Dalton shrugged, "though they _did_ underestimate me."

Cloud was silent. While this conversation was taking place, he was watching the staff and the kitchen door. Yet still no one looked their way. If anything, that seemed strange too, as if they were being deliberately ignored. But it was probably his imagination. This mystery stuff was getting to him.

His gaze wandered to the other customers. That guy was still in the opposite corner, pouring himself another glass of wine. And at the table nearest to the railing, a young couple was having lunch. They seemed happy and mushy together, with the girl giggling over something the guy had said and the guy looking shy yet pleased with himself. Cloud averted his eyes, bored.

* * *

As it turned out, absolutely nothing happened. Gunju returned to report that the food was fine, the meal was satisfying, and no one gave them so much as an odd look. After finishing, they departed the restaurant to attempt planning their next move.

"So what was the deal?" Zack frowned. "Did they realize we must be there staking the place out and decided to mess with our heads?"

"Possibly," Sephiroth grunted. "We might not find out anything at all unless someone they don't know comes here."

"And then they'd pretend to be mixed up in the racket?" Cloud said, eying the phone booth again as they walked past it.

"Something like that," Sephiroth nodded. "Maybe our spy would pretend to blackmail the criminals."

"But who would you get to do the task?" Dalton spoke. "Surely you wouldn't use an employee. Any one of them could be recognized."

"We wouldn't use an employee," Sephiroth said. "It would have to be someone else." He unlocked the car as they approached it. This time he leaned inside, checking for any odd notes. Finding nothing, he climbed inside. He would drive this time.

The others got in as well. "Who could we even get?" Zack exclaimed. "I mean, it'd have to be someone who could fit in at a fancy restaurant. Barret and Cid really wouldn't."

"Maybe Vincent?" Cloud suggested. "He used to be a Turk, after all."

"Call him," Sephiroth said.

"And what about Dave's story?" Angeal frowned, watching as Sephiroth started the engine and began to pull out of the parking space.

"Apparently it was either true or else he put on a convincing act for Thorton," Sephiroth said. "Or maybe he actually was angry about something, but not what he claimed."

"He acted like he was really worried about Thorton, though," Zack said. "He didn't want us to do anything that might upset him more."

"Hmm. Unless he just didn't want you to show him the photograph because he suspected what it was and he didn't want Thorton to tell you," Dalton said.

Zack groaned. "Why does everything have to be so complicated?!" he cried.

"When is a mystery not complicated?" Dalton returned. "I, for one, don't trust the gentleman."

Sephiroth was half-listening. They were coming to a semaphore just ahead, but even though he needed to slow the car down, it was not willing to cooperate. He stepped harder on the brake pedal, gritting his teeth.

"Seph, what the heck are you doing?!" Zack yelped. A semi truck was approaching the semaphore from the left corner. If Seph did not stop, they were going to have a collision!

At the last moment Sephiroth swerved wildly to the right, plunging the front of the limo into a snowbank. The truck driver honked in exasperation, not making a move to stop and see if they were alright. The heavy vehicle roared past while the limo's dazed occupants stared after it.

". . . I really didn't take you for such a reckless driver, good sir," Dalton said at last. His voice was dripping with mock politeness, emphasizing his annoyance and anger at the situation.

"What happened?" Cloud frowned.

Sephiroth leaned back, taking his foot off the brake pedal to look down at it. From here, it looked normal. "I couldn't stop," he said, his voice flat. "The brakes have either been disconnected or removed altogether."

Zack's mouth dropped open. "We were sabotaged?!" he exclaimed.

Sephiroth nodded. "It must have been while we were in the restaurant. The brakes worked fine before that."

"Well, of all the dirty, rotten . . . !" Zack fell to muttering just what he thought of the creeps, clenching his fists.

Angeal crossed his arms, deeply disturbed. All of them could have been killed, or at least seriously injured. His eyebrows knitted as he stared at the packed snow. No doubt it had saved their lives.

"Now we know one thing."

Angeal turned to look as Sephiroth spoke. "What's that?" he asked.

"We're on the right track. They wouldn't have done this if we weren't." Sephiroth pulled out his phone. "I'll call a tow truck."


	8. Vincent's Investigation

**Notes: Watch for the in-joke! Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Despite being shaken, everyone was unhurt--for which they were grateful. The car was firmly implanted in the snowbank, and very visible to other vehicles, so they opted to remain inside instead of stepping out into the ice and snow and the biting temperatures.

While waiting for the tow truck, Cloud decided to call Vincent at the hospital to explain their problem and see if he would be able to go undercover at the restaurant just for a short while. Luckily, Vincent was between patients. When he came to the phone, he sounded impassive as usual, yet there was something akin to weariness in his voice. It had been a long day, filled with police as well as patients. But he sat down at his desk, listening as Cloud described the problem and what they had thought of as a possible solution.

"I could try," Vincent said at last. "But I wouldn't be able to go until evening."

Cloud nodded. "Yeah, I figured. That's fine; we need to get back to the company when this mess is taken care of." He glanced around at the others. Sephiroth had leaned back in the seat, listening to the conversation. Angeal had his arms crossed and was staring out the window, but he was likely attentive as well. Zack had propped himself up on the inside of the door and was looking in Cloud's direction. And Dalton and Azazel seemed interested too. Gunju had made himself invisible again, but he was no doubt there. Which was really unnerving, when Cloud stopped to think about it. The creep could even spy on them at work or at home sometimes, and they would never know it.

"I have to get to my next appointment," Vincent told him, pushing back his chair at the desk. "I don't need to tell you to be careful."

"Yeah. Okay, thanks a lot," Cloud said.

He hung up, leaning back in the seat. "He says he'll do it," he reported.

"Great!" Zack grinned. "I hope he'll have better luck than we did."

"Indeed." Dalton looked to Sephiroth. "Once the other limousine arrives, I believe we will be taking our leave and returning to Fragmented Triangle. Since the problem stems from our company buildings, we should be able to learn something by searching there."

Sephiroth grunted. "Good luck." That was their own plan as well, not that he expected to find anything much. The smugglers had proven themselves to be very cautious, yet of course they still made mistakes. It had been foolish of them to not delete Marcel's record before, for one thing. But it had been fortunate for Sephiroth and the others.

Dalton smirked. "How odd it is, to hear you say that to me," he commented.

"How odd it is, to realize you have amnesia," Gunju returned from somewhere in the car. "You sound so much like your usual self."

"If he didn't, that would be frightening," Azazel answered.

Zack shifted. What a weird group. And yet in some way they almost sounded like they were bantering, like Zack did with Seph and Cloud. That really seemed surreal.

Somewhere deep down, maybe they were still human after all.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by without anything extraordinary happening. Sephiroth and the others made a thorough search of Jenova Corp, without luck, and still had to find time to tend to the usual company affairs, which had been mostly neglected today. When it was finally time to go home, everyone was relieved.

Vincent had gone home as well. For him, "home" was a very quiet, reclusive old mansion that he had bought and was slowly refurbishing. The neighbors were mainly elderly couples who had lived there all their lives. They had been a bit tense when they had seen the dark-haired, pale-skinned, young-looking man moving into the vacant manor, wondering whether he was part of a more rebellious subculture who would bring a lot of noise and chaos to the peaceful street. But upon seeing that he preferred to be left alone and rarely even had visitors, they were torn between whether to relax or whether to wonder if he was still strange. Those who had spoken to him had learned of his doctor profession, however, and a couple had begun to trust him enough that they had decided he would be their physician.

Some part of him was darkly amused, wondering what they would think if they knew he was really not that much younger than them. He looked to be around thirty, but Hojo's experiments--as well as Lucrecia's desperate attempt to save his life--had left him in that state. He had lost thirty years of his life, but no one would know it just by looking at him.

Now he was standing in the master bedroom. It was the only bedroom he had done anything with so far; he was not expecting to ever have need of the others. Having guests or permanent tenants were things he did not plan to do. It sometimes surprised him how the reclusive Sephiroth could want to live in a house with so many other people. But Sephiroth's house was bigger than this one. And Sephiroth had been estranged from his friends for so long that maybe he preferred to not live alone.

Despite the long day at the hospital, and how inviting the bed now looked, Vincent was quite willing to begin the assignment he had promised Cloud he would take. It was strange, but perhaps some part of him had actually been anticipating it. He had not gone on any sort of undercover operation since he had been a Turk. It would be a nice change of pace. After dressing in a dark suit, he slipped a gun inside his suit jacket. His favored Cerberus would not work in this case; it would be too hard to conceal. But he had bought a revolver a while back, just in case he would ever need it. This could be one of those times.

When he walked into Ambrogio's a short while later, he took a moment to study the room. It was as Cloud had described it, and oddly enough, the thin, balding man who had been drinking wine in the early afternoon seemed to be back--or he had never left. He was sitting in a corner, pouring a glass of wine to have with the large meal he had ordered. Was he expecting company? That was quite a bit of food for one man to attempt eating. Perhaps he was somehow important in the equation. Vincent would have to keep a close watch on him.

"Good evening, and welcome to Ambrogio's!"

Vincent turned at the voice of the host. The man was coming over to him with a pleasant smile. He did not give any indication that he recognized Vincent, nor that he was suspicious at all. Good--Vincent was blending in with the crowd.

The crimson-eyed man gave a curt nod. "I want a table away from all the others," he said. He had pondered over the many different possibilities of what to do both while at the hospital and on his way driving here, and he had determined to eat a meal first, then ask for the maitre d' and the owner to compliment them. It would give him a good cover, and time to observe anything unusual. When the maitre d' and the owner came, then Vincent would get to the real reason for his presence.

The headwaiter was already starting to lead Vincent to the right. "We have a very good table right over here, sir," he said.

Vincent followed him around the tables and past a half-railing to a corner table. Was this the same one where Cloud and the others had been brought? If so, it was likely just a coincidence because of its secluded location. But he should remain on guard anyway. Maybe this was even where people were brought that the staff wanted to closely watch.

"There were some other guests today who wanted a secluded table," the host said now, "and they seemed to quite like this one's location. Will it work for you, sir?"

"Yes." Vincent took a seat at the back of the table, enabling him to have the best view of the surrounding area.

"Feel free to examine the menu. The waiter will be with you shortly," the other man said. At Vincent's responsive nod, the host departed. He did not stop to speak to any of the other staff present in the main room, as he had done after Cloud and the others had come. Instead he vanished into the kitchen.

Vincent did take up the menu, but looking it over was mostly an excuse to study the other tables. There was no one sitting at the one in front of him to his right, beyond the half-railing, but there was another to the left with one occupant. That person slowly turned around, sensing eyes watching him. He bore short auburn hair and was wearing a black suit with a red bowtie. A glass of champagne was in his hand.

"I wasn't expecting guests," he commented.

What Vincent noticed most of all were the sea-green eyes. There was no doubt--they looked sharp with mako. This man was not from Earth.

"Who are you?" Vincent retorted.

The other man smirked. "Gackt," he said, taking a sip from the champagne.

Vincent frowned. "Gackt . . . or Project G?" he said. It was a wild stab, but this man looked to be about the right age. And he matched vague descriptions Vincent had read for Project G. There was no way Vincent would believe this person was not connected with Shinra, when he bore those eyes. Vincent was not about to believe that he was the Japanese singer Gackt, either. He did not even look Japanese.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gackt, or Project G, or whoever he was, set the goblet down on the table. "The cuisine here is quite exquisite. You won't be disappointed."

"Is there anything else here that's 'quite exquisite'?" Vincent asked. "Or out of the ordinary?"

"I couldn't say. I haven't observed anything of the sort, except for that man in the opposite corner." The auburn head nodded towards the wine-obsessed patron with the large meal.

"Has he been here long?" Vincent wondered, following the mako-green gaze. By now the man was starting in on the pasta dish he had ordered. And he checked his watch every few moments.

"He was here when I arrived," Project Gackt answered. "That wasn't so long ago." He looked back to his champagne.

"He acts as though he's waiting for someone." Vincent was not certain what to make of this character. Was he on their side, the enemy's side, or only on his own side? And what was his real name?

"He does, doesn't he." G picked up his own menu. "The waiter is coming."

Vincent turned his attention back to his own menu. As the waiter approached, he gave his order in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. The waiter nodded and swiftly walked away, scribbling on his notepad.

"He isn't very talkative," G observed. He did not turn back to completely face Vincent. Instead he spoke into the menu, to make it less obvious that they were conversing.

"Why are you here?" Vincent frowned.

"It came highly recommended," was the smiling reply. Vincent was not going to get anything out of him except what he wanted and intended to say.

"You aren't here for the food," Vincent grunted.

"Neither are you," G said, "Mr. Valentine."

Vincent's eyes narrowed further. So his identity was known. This was getting worse all the time.

"What's your point?" he said at last.

"I just wanted to let you know I know who you are," G said. "You may need my help at some time."

"I don't have any reason to trust you," Vincent retorted.

"I know," G said, taking another sip from his goblet. "However, I am investigating these people too. I wasn't expecting to see anyone else here, but when you came in I realized what you were up to." He studied the bubbly liquid, refusing to say more. A waitress was passing by the tables, coming to a stop at his.

"Excuse me, sir," she greeted. "Mr. Latham over there wants to talk to you." She nodded to the man who was now chomping into his Italian sandwich. Though he was focused on eating, he peered over the top of the bread at G's table.

"I see," G commented, not seeming surprised. "Thank you." He pushed back his chair, walking across the red carpet without speaking or looking back to Vincent. But the waitress shot a glance at him before hurrying away.

Vincent's eyes narrowed. Why did that man want to talk to G? Who _was_ G? And why had that waitress looked so nervous? Did she know something about what was going on here? Or did even _she_ know Vincent's purpose in coming?

It was not long before his meal arrived. As he ate, he tried to shoot inconspicuous glances at Mr. Latham's table across the way. The man seemed nervous and tense, while G remained relaxed and smooth. At one point G reached over to steal an olive from the centerpiece on the table. Completely flustered by the sudden action, Mr. Latham promptly spilled wine on himself. He stared at the mess, aghast, while G called for a waitress to assist.

Why was Mr. Latham so uptight? Had he expected G to grab at him instead of an olive? And if so, why would he? Nothing was making sense.

A sound to his right brought his attention in that direction. The waitress from earlier was slipping into a seat next to him.

"I don't know what you think you're going to find," she said, "but the police have already been here."

He looked at her. "I'm not the police."

"But you were sent by those people from earlier, weren't you?" she persisted. "I'm sure I saw a picture of you in the paper with those Jenova Corp guys."

He frowned. The only time he had been in a picture with them was when Jenova Corp had agreed to sponsor the hospital's fundraiser. That had been some time back, so he had hoped that no one here would remember it.

"Why are you so anxious?" he asked. "Unless something actually is amiss, you shouldn't have anything to worry about."

"I just don't want this place to get a lot of negative publicity," she defended herself. "The customers earlier were really worried when they saw the police here. Something like that has never happened before."

Vincent grunted. "Is the owner of this restaurant here?" he asked.

A blink. "Yes," she said with hesitance. "Why?"

"I want to see him." Vincent's tone was matter-of-fact.

She gaped. "What are you going to talk to him about?" she frowned.

"If there's nothing wrong, then there won't be anything to talk about," he returned. "I want to compliment him on the food."

Before she could reply, a loud crash came from Mr. Latham's table. He had just slammed his hand upon it.

"This man is trying to kill me!" he screamed.

All eyes in the room turned to look. Mr. Latham had sprang to his feet, pointing with a shaking finger at G. The auburn-haired man was frowning.

"This is an outrage," he said, rising as well. "You called me to your table. I had no such intentions, and you are aware of it."

"Why would I call you to my table?!" Mr. Latham retorted. He stumbled forward in his rage, which was clearly brought on at least partially by the immense amount of wine he had consumed.

G stepped back. "The red-haired waitress delivered the message to me," he said. "If anyone is in doubt, they can question her."

Vincent turned to look to the right. The woman had vanished. And by now all available staff members were crowding around the scene, unsure of what to think or do. One waiter reached to restrain Mr. Latham as he tried to throw a drunken punch at G.

"Please, sir!" the waiter exclaimed. "You're making a scene!"

Mr. Latham pulled himself free. "You're going after me, when he's the one you should be driving back? I swear to you, he wanted to put poison in my food!"

"Why would I want to do that?" G frowned.

"How would I know what goes through your twisted mind?!" Mr. Latham cried, throwing his hands into the air.

"There _was_ a waitress."

Now all eyes turned to look at Vincent. The crimson-eyed man had stood, walking over to the crowd. His voice was flat and matter-of-fact.

"I heard her tell this man that Mr. Latham wanted to see him," Vincent continued.

"It's a lie!" Mr. Latham screamed.

Vincent fixed him with a hard stare. "If you didn't send the message, who did?" he said.

Mr. Latham sputtered. "I . . . I . . . I don't know!" he snapped. "Someone who wants to kill me!"

"Get this man a cab," Vincent heard the host say in an undertone to another waitress. "He's had far too much to drink to even think about driving home himself."

But Mr. Latham overheard the comment. "Don't you dare!" he yelled at the shocked woman. "They'll get me alone in the cab and then . . ." He made a sound of finality, swiping his finger across his throat.

The crimson eyes narrowed further. Was this man paranoid? Or did he have a reason for his insistence that someone wanted him dead? He could be an important lead, especially since he had been there earlier as well.

"Don't bother about the cab," Vincent said, and looked to Mr. Latham. "I'll drive you home."

The middle-aged man blinked, as if seeing him for the first time. "You?" he said. "Who are you?"

"We can talk on the way," Vincent said. "But I need to see the owner first."

"See here!" a new voice exclaimed. "What's all this?"

Again everyone turned. An authoritative figure in a dark suit was coming out from a door marked "Offices." His scowl was spread across his face, making him look all the more unfriendly.

Amidst a chatter of voices, the basic story somehow got repeated well enough for him to grasp the gist of it. "Alright!" he bellowed, holding up his hands. "We'll get to the bottom of this. So some waitress said Mr. Gackt was to go to Mr. Latham, because Mr. Latham wanted to see him. And Mr. Latham says he didn't say that at all."

"That's right!" Mr. Latham proclaimed with a hiccup.

"Who was the waitress?" the newcomer persisted.

"She was tall, with dark red curls," G said. "Some of them were piled on her head and others were hanging down around her shoulders."

The man frowned in confusion. "I don't have any waitress like that working here," he said.

Vincent stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Guiseppe Ashe, the owner of this establishment," was the answer. "And who are you?" He looked Vincent up and down. "You seem to be trying to get things back in order around here."

"I'm trying to get to the bottom of this," Vincent said. "It interrupted my meal."

"Well, I'll make sure you and everyone else are compensated for this disturbance," Mr. Ashe said. "Mr. Latham is a frequent guest here, but he's never gone into such a fit before." He eyed the other man's wine-stained suit jacket in disapproval. "I don't doubt _that_ had something to do with it, if not everything."

"On the other hand, what if by some chance he actually has good reason to be so paranoid?" G spoke. "Perhaps someone actually is trying to kill him."

"And who on earth would?" Ashe retorted.

"Maybe we need to try to find out," G said. "This waitress business is certainly odd in any case. You must admit that."

Mr. Ashe gave an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose so," he conceded.

G looked to Mr. Latham. "Well, _do_ you have some specific reason to think someone wants to kill you?" he asked.

The man glowered. "Of course," he slurred. "Because of the whole mess with Linda and the company."

Vincent fixed him with a stern look. Cloud had mentioned the woman at the bookstore named Linda, who had behaved oddly and seemed to have a grudge against businessmen. Was this just a coincidence, or was Mr. Latham referring to her?

"Oh, he's babbling nonsense," Ashe snorted. "Sir, you don't have to worry about driving him home. Just enjoy the rest of your meal and we'll take care of him." He looked to Vincent.

"Actually, I want to talk to you about something," Vincent said. "In private."

Ashe blinked. "Well, then, let's go into my office," he said with a gesture.

"Let's sit over here," Vincent said instead, moving back towards his table. He did not want to let Mr. Latham out of his sight. Nor did he know that he could trust G to watch Mr. Latham.

"Hmm . . . yes, let's," Ashe said, though surprised. "Then you can resume eating." He followed Vincent to the table. "I do hope this experience won't negatively impact your opinion of Ambrogio's," he said.

Vincent sat down. "Who is Ambrogio?" he asked flatly, ignoring Ashe's comment.

"My cousin," was the reply. "I inherited this restaurant from him and didn't bother to change the name."

"You _inherited_ it?" Vincent repeated with a frown.

Ashe nodded. "He, unfortunately, died mysteriously in a house fire. But let's not discuss such unpleasant subjects." He sat down as well.

"I have more for you." Vincent gave him a stern look. "I heard the police were here earlier."

Ashe's eyes registered surprise. "They were," he admitted. "Something about a suspect calling from the phone booth outside. I don't know, it all seemed ridiculous to me. Did they think the man would hide in here? And that no one would notice? We would never allow such uncouth people on the premises."

"You wouldn't be able to tell he was a criminal if he knew how to blend in," Vincent grunted.

"But that's the thing--I've found that they don't blend in!" Ashe exclaimed with a wide sweep of his arm. "Criminals always manage to stand out." He frowned. "Such as that Latham person."

"You think he's involved in something illegal?" Vincent watched Ashe with narrowed eyes. The man had been quick to dismiss Mr. Latham's comments about Linda. Had he been giving his honest opinion, or had he been trying to discredit Mr. Latham for some reason?

"Well, I don't know for sure, of course," Ashe hurried to say. "But when someone comes in and makes an uproar by accusing another patron of trying to kill him, I don't take it lightly."

"Isn't Mr. Latham a frequent patron?" Vincent said.

Ashe blinked. "Well, yes . . ."

"Then from a businessman's standpoint, you shouldn't be so quick to pass judgment on him." Vincent leaned forward over the table, further lowering his voice. "And you should have been more careful. Your stooge shouldn't have called Mr. Thorton from the booth right outside."

"My . . ." Ashe's mouth dropped open. "I don't like what you're insinuating!"

"I know you're using this building as a hideout," Vincent said. "And you know where Jessica Thorton is right now."

"This is an outrage." Ashe's eyes sparked with flames as he leaned over to stare back at Vincent. "I could sue you for these statements."

"Not if the police find out I'm right." Vincent regarded him coldly. "I'm going to tell them everything, unless you start seeing things my way."

"You're trying to blackmail me, aren't you?" Ashe's voice was steel. "Well, it won't work. Who do you think the police will believe more--an upright businessman such as myself, or a common mercenary like you?"

At least he did not seem to know Vincent's identity. Which brought to mind the mystery of the non-existent waitress again. Or was Ashe only lying about not knowing who she was in order to throw suspicion off of himself? Vincent could ask some of the employees about her, but supposing they were all in on this together none of them would admit to knowing anything about her.

"I'm very convincing." Vincent was unmoved. "I'm sure once they see the photographs, they'll believe me over you."

A flicker of something passed through Ashe's eyes, but then it was gone. "And you're expecting me to agree to hand you money without even seeing these alleged photographs?" Ashe retorted.

"No," Vincent said. "I can bring the photographs. I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

"And we most certainly are not!" Ashe said, getting to his feet. "I am insulted by what you are saying. You couldn't have any photographs because there is nothing to capture. I have not committed any wrongdoings. I will have to ask you to leave."

Vincent pushed back his chair. "Instead of going to the police, maybe I'll sell the photographs to a newspaper," he said as he rose. "Ambrogio's might be all over the front page tomorrow morning."

"Your empty threats mean nothing," Ashe said. "And if you're still interested in taking Mr. Latham home, I suggest you do so. Then I can be rid of you both!"

Vincent looked back to where Mr. Latham had removed his jacket and was watching while a waitress tried to remove some of the wine stain. G was standing nearby, his arms crossed.

"He's occupied right now," Vincent said. Somehow he needed to find a way to discover whether Ashe knew anything about G. Asking the wrong question could potentially blow his cover open and make it obvious that he really did not know anything for certain.

As it turned out, he did not have to ask.

"I suppose that Mr. Gackt is a friend of yours," Ashe said now, his tone still frozen.

"I've never met him before," Vincent answered.

"I don't believe that any more than you believe that I'm not a criminal," Ashe said with haughtiness. "Two strange people coming in completely independent of each other? Maybe you're even both in cahoots with Latham in a plot to try to ruin me!" He looked back to Vincent. "That is it, isn't it? You're from one of my competitors."

"No," Vincent grunted. As he watched, the waitress straightened, seeming to have decided that she had done all she could for the time being. Mr. Latham shakily picked up his suit jacket.

"Think about what I said," Vincent said over his shoulder to Ashe as he walked forward. He could feel the man's eyes boring into his back as he went.

G looked up as Vincent approached. "All ready to go?" he asked. "Our friend is about to burst a blood vessel."

Mr. Latham shakily draped the coat over his arm. "I want to get out of here," he said.

"Let's go," Vincent said, stepping over next to him.

"Have fun," G purred.

Vincent threw him a suspicious look as they headed for the door. He could not very well ask him anything while Mr. Latham was right here. But he had the odd feeling that he would be seeing this auburn-haired man again.

* * *

Genesis observed as Vincent led the intoxicated man outside. Now he would need to inconspicuously follow them. Ashe was likely planning to do that very same thing, but for a very different reason. He would wait until Mr. Latham was safe at home, and then some of his men would pounce on Vincent with the intent to kill. Just in case Vincent was telling the truth about the photographs, Ashe would not risk it getting out.

Of course, Genesis knew of Vincent's reputation. He was not concerned for the other man's safety; Vincent could protect himself. But this could be an important element in the mystery. He would not let it slip away from him.

As the crowd dispersed, he melted in among them. It was good that he had already paid his bill; now he could just quietly slip outside. Coming to the side door, he opened it with a casual air and stepped into the night wind. The sky was overcast by this point, the breeze gathering speed. It might snow. Just ahead he could hear Vincent speaking to Mr. Latham, asking where he lived. The answer was too slurred for Genesis to make it out from this distance.

Keeping to the shadows, he came to the car he had rented for tonight. As Vincent and Mr. Latham got inside Vincent's car, Genesis slid into his own. He waited until Vincent was driving away before starting his own engine. And sure enough, as he began to pull out of the parking space, a dark car came into view from around the corner, intent on following Vincent.

The three cars turned onto the next block. Genesis frowned, looking to the first car. Did Vincent know about this? He needed to try to lose the third car. But hopefully in the process, he would not also lose Genesis.

* * *

Vincent looked in the rear-view mirror as he turned the corner. A deep frown graced his features. Two other cars had turned as well. Was that a coincidence or not? He could not see what either driver looked like, though one of them could possibly be G. That would not be a surprise.

"What is it?!" Mr. Latham exclaimed, seeing Vincent staring into the mirror.

"I don't know," Vincent said. As an experiment, he turned right at the next corner and left at the one after it. The cars were still there. And he had no intention of mincing words. "I think we're being followed."

Mr. Latham went pale. "I should have known this wouldn't work!" he moaned. "They won't stop until I'm dead!"

"It might not even be you they're after," Vincent retorted. He swerved around a parked car and then around the next corner. He was going as fast as he dared on partially residential streets this late at night. Mostly the only buildings that were not businesses were high-rise apartment buildings, but every now and then there was also a large old house, something that no one had wanted to have torn down because of its historic value. Many of the businesses were still open, and some people watched curiously as the three cars passed by in a row.

"But why would they want you?" Mr. Latham said in amazement.

"Just a hunch," Vincent grunted. He turned to the left and into a parking garage before the pursuers could see. But even while weaving amongst the parked cars, he could hear two engines coming in after him. Neither driver had been fooled by his sudden disappearance.

"Tell me about Linda and the company," he said as he looked for a back exit.

"Right now?!" Mr. Latham gasped.

"There might not be a good time later," Vincent said.

"It's not a good time now," Mr. Latham frowned. His eyes widened in horror as one of the cars was suddenly right in front of them. The passenger side window rolled down and an arm and hand emerged. The index finger pulled the trigger of the gun the hand was holding.

Vincent swerved to the right, the tires squealing on the concrete. The other car was coming up from behind, but instead of shooting as well, its occupant suddenly got in between the two cars. Vincent caught a brief glimpse of auburn hair as he drove past. He was right--that one was G. And he seemed to be trying to help. Did that mean he could be trusted? Or did he simply have a separate agenda, but not necessarily a safer one?

"I need to know," he said to Mr. Latham, his tone flat and unimpressed.

The balding man was clutching the sides of the seat, his flesh chalk white. "I was an accountant for a company," he all but wailed. "They were doing illegal stuff with the funds--embezzling, you know--and I knew I needed to blow the whistle on them. Linda was the secretary for the president, but I knew she wouldn't have been involved, so I went to ask her what she knew about it. She didn't know anything, but she believed me when I showed her my calculations and other evidence. . . ."

He trailed off, letting out an alarmed cry as Vincent tore through a back exit. A second car was lying in wait for them right outside. As they went by, more bullets peppered the ground near their tires. Vincent kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the end of the alley several yards away. He sped out into the middle of a busy semaphore. A red car honked as it was forced to swerve out of their path.

"What happened then?" he asked.

Mr. Latham stared. "Doesn't this bother you at all?!" he cried, gesturing to the angry drivers.

Vincent ignored the query. "What happened." Two more cars blared their horns, narrowly missing hitting both each other and Vincent's car. Vincent took the opportunity to disappear down a side street.

"The company was stopped, but there was a big scandal!" Mr. Latham bawled, tightly shutting his eyes against the scene around them. "And when the president and the other guilty parties were arrested, his vice-president vowed to take his revenge on me and on Linda too!"

"So you think that's what's happening now," Vincent said. This street seemed to be quiet, but it would be foolish to let down his guard.

"It must be!" Mr. Latham exclaimed.

"If you really believe that, maybe you should consider going somewhere other than your home," Vincent said. "They might be waiting for you there."

Mr. Latham opened his eyes once more. "You're right!" he gasped. "What should I do?!"

"Get a hotel room for now," Vincent suggested, "and don't use your real name.

"What company was this?"

"Domino Appliances," Mr. Latham said. "The president was Del Vinci, a man rumored to have connections to an underworld family."

The name was unfamiliar to Vincent. When he got home and called Cloud to report on the evening, they would have to do some research on the company and the man. Finding out if the Linda at the bookstore was the same one would be a help, too. If she was, and if she was willing, she could be more helpful than any amount of research.

"You don't know for sure?" Vincent said.

"No," Mr. Latham said. He was cautiously starting to relax. For the last blocks they had not been chased. Maybe they had lost their pursuers. "His lawyers got him off, though."

Vincent frowned. "Even with all of the evidence against him?"

"He claimed that he didn't know anything about it!" Mr. Latham said. "And that the ones who were involved were trying to frame him. Unfortunately, none of the evidence did point to him directly, and he walked." He sighed. "But I'm sure he was involved. . . ."

"Where is he now?" Vincent asked. He was taking Mr. Latham to a hotel, as he had suggested. It would be ridiculous to take him home, after the display of gunfire. The shooters had probably been after him and not Mr. Latham, but he was not going to take a chance. If this story was true, then the man probably did have a reason to worry.

"I don't know," Mr. Latham said. "The company fell apart after the scandal, but I've also heard rumors that Del Vinci always has his fingers in many pies at once, so to speak. So I'm guessing he's secretly with another one."

That was likely. Vincent drove in silence for a moment. "At the restaurant, you kept looking at your watch," he said. "If you weren't expecting Mr. Gackt, were you waiting for someone else?"

Now Mr. Latham was silent. "No," he said then. "Not exactly."

"What then?" Vincent retorted.

"Linda was supposed to call me," he admitted. "But the time came and went and she didn't." He took out his phone and looked through the messages. "No one's tried to call."

Vincent frowned. "What was she going to call you about?" he asked.

"She said she had new information on Del Vinci," Mr. Latham said. "She's still been trying to bring him down, and she wanted my help."

"Does she work in a bookstore?" There was the hotel, up ahead. Vincent turned to go down the other side of the block. They would enter through the back way.

Mr. Latham blinked. "I don't really know," he said. "Is it important?"

"It could be." Vincent stayed alert as he entered the back parking lot. So far, so good. Maybe G had managed to keep both cars at bay long enough that now they were cruising all over the city in confusion. After Mr. Latham was settled in a room, Vincent would call Cloud. There was a lot to discuss.

* * *

Just as had been the case last night, Zack was plopped on the couch in the living room at home. He crossed his arms, idly staring out the window as he listened to the other sounds around him. Aerith and Tifa were washing the dinner dishes. Seph had gone to his home office and was typing on the computer. Cloud was waiting for a report from Vincent, and in the meantime Marlene had wanted him to play ponies with her. Of course, Cloud being Cloud, he found that quite awkward--but he actually wasn't that bad, when he really got into it. Zack smirked as he glanced at the sight of them walking the ponies across the floor. Cloud really was good with kids.

Something flashed out of the corner of his eye. He frowned, looking back to the window. Now all was dark. Could he have seen what it had looked like? Yes, there it was again! A light from across the street. He leaped up, running over to the window. It was just a small beam of light from inside, like before. This time it had passed through the area where the kitchen was probably located.

He looked over his shoulder. He did not want to tell Marlene what was up, but he was fully determined to get out of the house and go over there. If he left right now, maybe he could catch the sneak.

"I'm gonna take a quick walk, okay?" he announced.

Cloud blinked, looking up from where he was kneeling on the rug with a blue pony. That look in Zack's eyes was unmistakable. This was not just a simple walk, and there would not be any talking him out of it. "Okay. But don't be too long," he said. "Vincent's probably going to call soon."

"Right!" Zack saluted, then headed to the door. After slipping into his shoes and grabbing his coat, he hauled the door open and stepped onto the porch. The winter air nipped at his face, but he was too intent on getting across the street to pay attention. He jogged down the steps and over the walkway, feeling in his pocket for his keychain flashlight. He would probably need it, if he actually managed to get inside.

Once he crossed the street, he came to the house by way of the shadows. Everything looked dark, but surely the person could not have gotten away that fast. He frowned, walking over near the kitchen window and keeping himself just below it. Would the side door be unlocked? Maybe what they had here was a food thief, if there was any food to steal. He reached up, silently pulling open the storm door and grabbing for the wooden door's knob. It did not turn. So either the intruder had not come in this way, or they had locked the door after getting inside.

He slipped away, going around to the front porch. It was a big, wide porch with large windows looking out over it. Someone could hide in the living room and watch him coming up on the porch. But he would have to take the chance.

He studied the steps as he ascended. There was still snow in places, but mostly there was ice. It would be impossible to record footsteps in the ice. He sighed, reaching the porch and making his way to the front door. It was locked too.

His hands went to his hips. This place seemed to be sealed up like a drum. Someone had to be in there, and they did not want to be found out. Should he risk breaking in the door to find who it was? The police had not found anything missing. Maybe nothing was amiss and Zack would just cause trouble if he tried to get inside. Maybe _he_ would even get blamed for something.

He was just meddling, really. Why couldn't he let this go?

. . . Maybe because something really was not right. A shadow darted past the window to his left, running towards the back of the house. Was there another door there? It was time to find out.

He whirled, grabbing the banister as he leaped down the icy steps. The person obviously knew he was out here, so there was no point in trying to be quiet any more. He dashed around to the very back of the house, just in time to see a window being opened. It was a long drop to the ground, even just from the main floor, but the trespasser did not care. Without warning he launched himself from the open space and landed in a crouch on the snow.

In an instant Zack was at the person's side, grabbing an arm. "Okay!" he said. "How about you tell me why you're hanging out in these people's house?"

The form stiffened. "Let me go!" a voice snapped.

Zack stared in disbelief as the person straightened up. He was a lot shorter than Zack had been expecting. A mop of dirty blond hair was falling over the intruder's forehead, but the flashing blue eyes and freckles were very visible.

He was looking at a young boy.


	9. Oliver

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help! A couple of sentences were added to make things more clear.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The kid was still trying to pull away from Zack's grasp. He glowered up at the brunet, but as he gripped Zack's wrist it was obvious that his hand was shaking. He was afraid.

Zack switched gears. "Hey, it's okay," he said in a kind tone, looking the boy up and down. He was about eleven or twelve, and though his clothes were too small and tearing in multiple places, they were clean. His hair looked as if it had been recently cut, and not by a professional. Long and short pieces randomly stuck out in every direction.

Zack received a rapid shake of the head in reply. "I won't go back!" the kid insisted. "I won't!"

"Go back where?" Zack frowned.

The boy glowered. "I know you came to get me and take me back to Del Vinci," he said. "But I can get away from you just like I got away from those thugs he sent after me before."

"Del Vinci?" By now Zack was thoroughly confused. "I think we need to start over," he declared. "I'm Zack Fair. I live across the street. I've seen a light over here the past couple of nights, and since the place is supposed to be vacant, I knew something must be up. So I come here and find you! That's the truth--I don't know anything about some Del Vinci or anyone else that wants to catch you."

The kid shifted, shivering a bit as the cold found its way through the rips and tears in his clothes. He was still regarding Zack with suspicion, but Zack had the feeling that he was considering Zack's words as the truth. Slowly Zack released his grip on the boy's arm.

"This guy Del Vinci thinks I know where something is that he wants," the kid said at last. "I've sworn up and down that I don't, but he doesn't believe me. So he and his creeps have been after me for a long time."

"And who is this guy?" Zack asked.

"I don't know." The boy looked down at the snow, kicking at a powdered rock with his foot. "He has a lot of money and a big house. Several of 'em. I heard him bragging about the houses he owns to some of his thugs."

His shivering was not lost on Zack. "He sounds like the kind of guy I'd like to punch in the nose," he said. "And it must be pretty cold in the house here, without any heat or blankets or stuff like that."

A shrug. "It's better than outside," the kid answered.

"And being in our house would be even better," Zack said grandly, gesturing across the street. "How about you come over and get a cup of hot chocolate, and we can get the police on this Del Vinci's case?"

For a moment the young face brightened at the idea. But then his shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth turned down. "Won't I get in trouble for being in this house?" he said.

"How'd you get in it anyway?" Zack wondered.

"I didn't know where to go, but then I saw this big empty place and the garage door open a bit, so I crawled in under it and found a door leading into the house," was the answer. "It didn't look like anyone was living here, so I . . . picked the lock and went in. Later I went back and pulled down the garage door the rest of the way, just in case Del Vinci's men came along."

"I think we could get you off the hook," Zack said, "all things considered. So, what do you say?"

"Well . . ." The boy looked up again. "Maybe just for a bit."

"Great!" Zack chirped. "And hey, I told you my name. What about yours?"

Another hesitation. "Oliver," he said at last.

"Cool name," Zack grinned, as they began walking. "You like Oliver Twist?"

"I never read it," Oliver said.

"Me either," Zack smirked.

This elicited a slight smirk from the kid as well.

As they arrived back across the street and went up the walkway, Zack jogged up the ice-free steps and hopped onto the porch. "I'm back!" he called as he threw open the door. Oliver shyly followed, removing his shoes at the doorway when he saw Zack doing likewise.

Cloud looked up with a start. He was holding the phone in one hand and Marlene's blue pony in the other. An eyebrow arched upon seeing Oliver.

"Long story," Zack said. "This is Oliver. He was staying in the house over there because he was running from some creep named Del Vinci."

Cloud's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "You've gotta be kidding," he said.

Zack blinked. "What is it?" he asked.

"This is Vincent on the phone," Cloud said, "and he's got a lot to say. Including stuff about Del Vinci."

Zack gave a low whistle. "No kidding," he breathed. "So is Del Vinci mixed up in our mystery too?"

"He's not sure," Cloud said. "I'm not, either. We're going to need to have a conference to discuss all of this."

Marlene walked over to Oliver, who was staring at Cloud in shock. "Hi," Marlene greeted. "I'm Marlene."

Oliver started, looking down at her. "Oh . . . hi," he acknowledged.

Marlene held up a turquoise pony. "Would you like to play ponies?" she offered.

Oliver blinked in surprise. For a moment he looked as though he might refuse, perhaps thinking it a sissy thing to do, but then he nodded. "Okay," he agreed.

Marlene beamed, leading him over to where the other ponies were gathered on the floor. "Cloud, can I have Sugar Apple back?" she asked, looking up at him.

Occupied with the phone again, it took a moment for the words to register in Cloud's mind. But then realization dawned as he stared at the pony he was still holding in his left hand. "Uh, sure," he said, handing the toy over while still trying to listen to Vincent.

Zack smirked in amusement at the scene. And he was touched by Marlene's immediate attempt to make Oliver feel welcome. She was sometimes still a bit shy, but she often tried to reach out to people who were feeling sad or awkward. Oliver seemed to be relaxing a bit more, settling back into the role of being a normal kid instead of a hunted boy on the run.

"Well, goodness," Aerith said, coming to the kitchen doorway, "what's all this?"

Zack looked to her. "I knew I saw lights across the street!" he greeted. "I'll explain everything, but right now we need some of your famous hot chocolate. Got any on hand?"

Aerith smiled a bit. "I think I can process that request," she said.

Zack grinned. "Excellent! You're always right ready with what we need."

"I don't know about that," Aerith said, "but I try my best." She looked to Oliver and Marlene. "We'll need to call his family," she said. "They must be worried about him."

Zack nodded. "I hadn't asked him about them yet," he said. "He didn't make any mention of them, and coming to think of it, he didn't give me his last name, either."

Aerith frowned. "I hope nothing has happened to them," she said.

Zack had been thinking along the same lines. If Oliver had been held captive by this Del Vinci, who was to say that the creep had not killed Oliver's family members in order to keep them from finding him? That sounded like the sort of thing a guy like that might do.

And that would give Zack even more reason to punch him out.

* * *

Before long, Sephiroth and Angeal were called into the living room to hear Oliver's story and Vincent's report over cups of hot chocolate. Vincent, Cloud said, was preparing to leave the hotel and recommended that they find out about Linda at the bookstore as soon as possible. He doubted Mr. Latham could tell him anything more, but he hoped that what he had heard so far would be a help.

Sephiroth and Angeal exchanged knowing looks when Cloud mentioned the enigmatic auburn-haired man. Considering Vincent suspected him to be Project G, Cloud did not say much on the matter since Oliver was present, but he said enough to give the other men a good idea of what the stranger had looked like. If they were not mistaken, Genesis had mysteriously appeared once again. And he did not want it to be known. Neither Sephiroth or Angeal were familiar with this Gackt, but some Japanese singer was the farthest person from Genesis's true identity that he could get. They would have to give this more thought. Why would Genesis be involved? And why was he so intent on staying incognito? The villains would not likely know him, so he must be trying to stay hidden from those who had known him on Gaia.

"And now tell everybody what you told me," Zack said to Oliver after a brief silence.

Oliver hesitated but then complied. As he spoke, he mostly studied his hands or the mug of hot chocolate. Everyone listened, wanting to grasp every detail of the strange tale.

Zack looked to Oliver at the conclusion. "So, is there any family we can call when we get the police?" he asked.

Oliver shook his head. "Del Vinci's men killed them all when I was really little," he said, a bit of bitterness creeping into his voice. "I don't really remember it, but he talked about it a lot and said how he'd only left me alive because of what he wanted to get from me."

"And do you know at all what it is that he wanted?" Sephiroth asked.

". . . Some family fortune." Oliver frowned. "He said he knew that my dad'd given me the key to unlock it or something, and that I . . . must've hidden it on the night his thugs broke into the house." This last part he said after another slight hesitation, his gaze darting around the room.

Sephiroth frowned too. Del Vinci sounded foolish, to have the entire family killed when he wanted something of theirs. How could he expect a young child to be his only lead?

. . . What if he did not? What if the boy's family was alive, but Del Vinci was keeping it secret? Maybe he had told them that Oliver was dead. Sephiroth would not speak of this yet, since it might give the youth false hope, but as soon as possible he would suggest the idea to Zack and the others.

"Do you remember the key?" Angeal asked.

"A little," Oliver said. "I remember Dad telling me I had to keep it safe."

"What about the place you ran away from?" Cloud spoke. "Do you know where it is, so we can tell the police about it?"

"It's a big place in one of the subdivisions around here," Oliver said. "It's not as far away as I'd like it to be. I wouldn't have stopped at the empty house if it hadn't already been so late. . . ."

"The police didn't find any indications of an intruder last night," Sephiroth said. "Where did you manage to hide?"

A shrug. "Oh, there were a couple of secret passages I found after I poked around a lot," Oliver replied. "The police didn't find those because they didn't think there'd be any. I didn't either, not in a new house. I just found them by accident. I hid there when I heard people coming, 'cause I didn't know who it was. And when I realized it was the police, I didn't come out because I figured I'd get in trouble with them. I didn't want to go to any kids' jail."

Cloud nodded. "Understandable."

Zack nodded too. "Okay," he said, reaching for the phone. "I think it's time to get the police to chase down that creep."

* * *

Either Del Vinci had anticipated the police's arrival after Oliver's escape or else he simply was not at home. More likely it was the latter, as within a half hour of the officers being sent to the address Oliver provided, Zack received a startling call.

"There's no one currently on the premises, except for us," the policeman told him. "But there are a couple of crates in the basement that are marked 'Jenova Corp.'"

"You're kidding!" Zack gasped. "Can we come down there and identify them?"

"Yes," he was told. "Come as quickly as possible."

Oliver wanted to come too. But the adults were firm on the matter.

"You just got away," Zack said. "We don't know if Del Vinci and his creeps might come back."

"Maybe once we know if the house has been vacated, the police will want you to look around," Angeal said. "But it wouldn't be wise just yet."

"You can stay here for now," Marlene volunteered. "Aerith and Tifa already said it was okay. And you can meet Denzel! He should be back soon." Denzel had been out for the evening with the local friends he had made, sharing dinner at one of their homes. But he had called and said he was coming back before long.

Oliver smiled a bit. "Okay," he agreed.

"Great!" Zack grinned. "We'll see you in a bit!" And with a wave, he headed to the door with the others.

* * *

Del Vinci's manor was indeed too close for comfort. Sephiroth had barely been driving for ten minutes when they came across it. It was situated at the back of a sprawling front yard, covered with untouched snow. Zack stared at it longingly, but followed the others up the walkway and past the policemen guarding the premises.

"Is there any more news?" Sephiroth asked once they had identified themselves.

"Not that I've heard," said the first officer. "I think you can just go on in."

Sephiroth nodded and walked past, heading for the front steps. The others trailed after him, glancing at the wrap-around porch as they went. The wooden door was open, leaving only the storm door as a barrier between the elements and the interior. Sephiroth pulled open the metal and glass door, stepping into the parlor. One officer was examining a desk leaning against the wall. He looked up as the four men entered.

"Mr. Sephiroth?" he greeted.

"Yes." Sephiroth eyed him. "Where is the door to the basement?"

"Down this hall," was the response. The officer gestured behind him at a sprawling corridor. "It's the first door on the right."

Without another word, Sephiroth walked past him and headed in that direction.

"Thanks!" Zack called as he and the others hurried after Seph.

Both the stairwell and the basement itself were well-lit. As the quartet reached the bottom of the steps, they entered into what seemed to be Del Vinci's personal bar. Crates lined the floor against one wall, with a long counter and many shelves behind it on the opposite side. Various bottles lined the shelves, and as Zack walked closer out of curiosity, many fancy French and Italian labels came into view.

"Well, he sure doesn't skimp on his wines," Zack said.

The sound of glasses clinking made him start. "Who did that?" he frowned, looking back over his shoulder. But Cloud, Seph, and Angeal looked just as confused.

"It wasn't us," Cloud said. "And I don't see anyone else down here."

"But that's crazy!" Zack exclaimed. His eyes narrowed. "Gunju, are you hanging around?" he demanded. But no one answered.

The brunet glanced back over his shoulder. "You guys heard it, right?" he said, his eyes pleading for them to say Yes.

Sephiroth nodded. "It was very distinct." He walked over near some of the crates, lifting the lids. One contained nothing but wine glasses, but none of them showed any indication of having moved. Neither did the sealed bottles stored in another crate.

Zack walked around to the other side of the bar. Nothing looked out of place. He threw his hands in the air in disbelief.

"Our crates aren't among these," Sephiroth said, straightening up. "Let's keep going."

Cloud was already wandering ahead, peering into some of the other rooms. "Most of these rooms are vacant," he frowned. "Or they have other crates in them. But I don't see any of ours."

"Man, I should've thought to ask the guy where in the basement they were!" Zack berated.

The sound of a vacuum cleaner stopped him in his tracks. "That's the same sound I heard at Thorton's!" he exclaimed.

"And who'd be vacuuming down here?" Cloud frowned. The sound seemed to be coming from the nearest door. He crossed to it, pushing it open as he peered into the darkened room.

"Anything?" Zack asked, coming up from behind.

Cloud advanced into the room, feeling on the wall for a lightswitch. "I don't know," he said. "I don't hear anything now. And I can't find the light, either."

Zack pulled out his keychain flashlight, clicking it on. He flashed the small beam around the space. The carpet looked expensive, but other than it, the room looked empty.

"Are you sure this is where it was coming from, pal?" he said with a blink.

"No," Cloud said. "I'm not sure at all."

"Now it sounds a washing machine running," Sephiroth frowned from out in the hallway.

Zack stood still to listen. Seph was right. "What the heck's going on here?!" he cried, hurrying back to the doorway and peering into the corridor.

Angeal was on the opposite side, looking into another room. "This one is set up like a bedroom," he said. "Maybe this is where Oliver was staying."

Zack came over to look. It looked well-furnished, but when he shined his flashlight on the bed, a pink-and-white comforter was illuminated.

"Nope, this must be a girl's bedroom," he deduced. "Wonder who was in it." He narrowed his eyes. Would there have been other "guests" like Oliver? If so, where were they now? It seemed weird, that no one had been in the house when the police had arrived. Del Vinci seemed the sort who would probably want a guard, at least.

Angeal was having similar thoughts. "I wonder if all of this was a set-up," he said. "Maybe Del Vinci wanted us to come here."

"But that wouldn't make any sense!" Zack protested, looking up at him. "And how would he even . . ." His eyes widened. "Angeal! You're not saying maybe Oliver's working for Del Vinci, are you?"

"I don't know," Angeal said. "You have to admit, this _is_ strange. What if he didn't run away at all, but was deliberately sent to get our attention?"

Zack shook his head. "I'm not going to believe that," he said. "The kid was really terrified when I found him at the house!"

"Unless he's an excellent actor," Sephiroth grunted as he walked over and looked into the room. "Something doesn't seem quite right about him. I have the feeling he's lying about something."

"Like what?" Zack said, looking up at the silver-haired man.

Sephiroth shook his head. "I can't place it," he said. "He seems uneasy, as if he's a culprit afraid that he'll be found out. I sensed that he felt that way about us, not just Del Vinci and his gang. There was the way he hesitated before saying what he must have done with the key, as if he was going over the facts in his mind to make certain that it was the story he wanted to tell."

Zack frowned. "Not good enough evidence," he said. "It's probably just something he hates talking about."

"Probably," Sephiroth agreed. "But you never know."

Cloud was standing in the hall, listening to both them and the washing machine sound. "It's stopping," he said. "It sounds like the agitator cycle is ending."

"And we still can't find any of the appliances making these noises!" Zack said, glad for the change of subject. "It really is like Gunju's hanging out here, playing practical jokes on us!"

"He's probably busy with his own problems." Sephiroth walked into the girl's bedroom, moving to open the nightstand drawer. It was empty.

His eyes narrowed as the sound of a ticking clock filled the room. No clock was in sight. Was it a bomb? It did not seem that that would be Del Vinci's style, but who could say?

"Wait a minute." Angeal walked into the room with a deliberate air, crossing to the window. As he pulled back a white curtain, a small creature blinked at him.

"What's that?!" Zack exclaimed, hurrying in with Cloud right behind him.

Angeal held out his finger. A small, colorful bird stepped onto it, chattering in bliss. "A cockatiel," he announced. "A member of the cockatoo family. And an excellent mimic."

"Mimic?!" Zack stared. "Don't tell me all these sounds we've been hearing is this little guy!"

"They've been known to imitate appliances around the house," Angeal said. "And clocks."

The bird responded by making the ticking sound again. Zack was fascinated.

"Hey, that's pretty cool!" he declared. "But what's a bird doing in a place like this?"

"Maybe it's a pet," Sephiroth said.

"Yeah," Cloud said, "instead of a cat, this guy has a bird." He crossed his arms.

"Cat?" Sephiroth repeated, looking to Cloud with a raised eyebrow.

Cloud shrugged. "Some spy movie was on the other night," he mumbled. "The bad guy had a cat."

Zack held out a finger, gently stroking the bird's crested head. "But if this is the source of the vacuum sound, doesn't that mean the bird was at Thorton's place?" he said.

"Looks that way," Cloud said.

"Some criminals train birds to assist them," Angeal said, a bit of anger slipping into his voice. It bothered him when animals were mistreated in any way, and being used as a criminal's aide definitely qualified.

"But birds can't smuggle things," Zack frowned. "I mean, they couldn't pick up the gems and put them in the radios. Well, they _could_, but I don't see any point in training them to do that!" He gestured wildly in frustration.

"Nothing is making sense," Sephiroth said. "We're going to have a lot of questions for the boy when we get home."

One of the police officers came to the doorway, his expression concerned. For a moment he stopped and stared in astonishment at the sight of the four men gathered in the bedroom with a ticking cockatiel. "What's that?" he asked.

"The source of some sounds we've been hearing," Angeal replied, holding out his finger with the bird.

The officer gave a weary sigh. "Too bad it can't be like a parrot and repeat some key phrases instead," he said.

"Has something happened?" Sephiroth asked, stepping forward.

The policeman nodded. "Del Vinci did have a guard stationed here," he said. "We just found the body at the edge of the yard, under a bush."

Zack's mouth dropped open. "Murder?!" he gasped.

"Yes. He took two rounds of gunfire to the chest." The man frowned. "Nothing in the house looks disturbed, but that doesn't mean something isn't missing."

"Could the guy still be hanging out here?" Zack wondered, his eyes wide.

"It's possible. Have you found your crates yet?" the officer queried.

"No," Sephiroth said.

"They were left with the shipments for the bar," the policeman said. "When I saw them gone, I assumed you'd taken them."

"We haven't seen them at all," Cloud said.

And that meant someone else had moved them. But who? And why?

"The murderer could be right down here in the basement with us," Zack realized. "Somebody didn't want us to find our stuff!"

"Do they also want to keep us here?" Sephiroth wondered. "They would surely realize that we would stay to search for our belongings." Maybe his earlier thought of a bomb was not so far-fetched. They might be in for an ambush, at any rate.

Cloud frowned, crossing his arms. "And what's going to happen to that bird?" he said.

"We'll take it into police custody," the officer said. "Maybe some of the sounds it makes could be clues."

"I heard a vacuum cleaner noise at Thorton Book and Antiques," Zack volunteered. "There was weird stuff going on there, but I dunno why the bird would've been there!"

"We'll look into it. Meanwhile sirs, it would be better for all of you to leave right now." The policeman's voice was firm. "If you believe someone wants to keep you here, it must be for an ill purpose. The mob is not something to tangle with lightly."

"We're not going to just run away!" Zack protested. "We're in this pretty deep." Unlike Dalton, Sephiroth had felt that he was forced to tell the police about their smuggling problems, since that had been the direct reason why Jessie Thorton had been beaten and abducted. But he had also told the police that he intended to see this through to the end and that he and the others would keep investigating.

"I realize that," the officer said. "Of course you want to get to the bottom of this smuggling case." He looked to each of them. "However, for your own safety I have to ask you to cooperate."

Before anyone could reply, Zack's cellphone rang. In surprise he pulled it out and opened it. "Hello?" he said.

"Zack!" It was Aerith, and she sounded openly distraught.

Zack's stomach twisted. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"A while after you left, these men broke into the house," Aerith told him. "I don't know what they wanted; they started going through all the rooms and overturning furniture! I demanded to know what they were doing, and one of them grabbed Marlene."

"Is she okay?!" Zack gasped. Everyone else turned to look.

"I don't know!" Aerith exclaimed. "Oliver ran over then and told them to put her down. Tifa and I tried to stop them, but in the end they still got away. And both Marlene and Oliver have been taken with them!"

The phone suddenly felt slippery in Zack's grasp. He gripped it tighter. "Do you think they were after Oliver to begin with?" he worried.

"I think so," Aerith said. "That seems likely, anyway. We've already called the police."

"Are you okay?" Zack exclaimed. "You and Tifa and Denzel?"

"Denzel isn't back yet, which is probably a good thing," Aerith said. "Tifa and I are fine. We're just very worried about Marlene and Oliver."

Zack ran his tongue over his lips. "I'm sure they're fine, too," he tried to say. "We'll be right there!" After saying goodbye, he ended the call and replaced the phone in his pocket, his hands shaking.

"What is it?" Cloud asked.

"Marlene and Oliver have been kidnapped!" Zack burst out. Quickly he repeated Aerith's story, while everyone stared in shock, including the policeman.

"Moving our crates may have just been a ploy to keep us here longer," Sephiroth frowned. "If our house was being watched, they would know that the only people in it were women and children."

"And it'd mean that someone was watching the house while someone else was here!" Zack realized. "Oh man, this is getting worse all the time!"

The officer's face showed obvious concern. "Have the police been called?" he asked.

Zack nodded. "Aerith said she called them." He slapped his forehead. "I should've asked her what the creeps looked like! Maybe we'd recognize them."

"Let's just get back," Sephiroth said. "We can hear what's said to the police." He moved past them to go to back up the hall. "We'll have to look for the crates later."

The others concurred. As they followed, Angeal paused to pass the cockatiel to the awkward police officer. "There should be a cage for it somewhere in the house," Angeal told him.

The policeman nodded, starting as the bird imitated a ringing telephone without warning. The men from Jenova Corp turned back to look. The officer pointed at the bird with his free hand.

Zack shook his head. "That's one crazy cockatiel," he said.

* * *

Marlene was trying hard not to be frightened.

After all, she had been taken twice before, and no harm had come to her those times. On the first occasion, Reeve had not wanted to hurt her and he had ordered his men to be gentle. The second time, Loz had seemed big and fearsome, especially after what he had done to Tifa. Marlene had been afraid of him and furious with him, and yet she had preferred to be with him instead of Kadaj. Loz had not hurt her, and she had stayed close by him while Kadaj had spoken to the other children.

But this time was different; the awful men who had broken into the house had been very rough and mean to her as well as to Oliver. And they had hurt Tifa and Aerith, too, when they had tried to get in the way and prevent the kidnapping. Marlene was very worried about them both.

When the thugs had left, they had cursed at both of the children before throwing them into the back of a van. Now, as it rolled over the bumpy and sometimes icy streets, Marlene was jostled back and forth. Oliver was as well, but he seemed not to noticed or care. He was sitting right next to the divider between the front and the back of the vehicle, desperately trying to hear what their captors were planning.

Marlene crawled over to him. "What are they saying?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I can't tell." He clenched a fist, obviously troubled. "We can't let them take us to wherever we're going. I know that much."

"But what can we do?" Marlene frowned. "The doors are locked." Oliver had already tried pushing against them, to no avail. The thugs had not been stupid enough to leave the double-doors at the back of the van unlocked.

"I don't know." Oliver sounded despairing. There was not anything in the car that they could throw at the windows to break them, either.

Marlene sat in silence with him for a moment. "What did that one guy mean?" she asked, remembering something that had puzzled her as they had been shoved into the van. "The one who was talking about someone named Julieanna."

An indescribable look flashed through his eyes. "I guess he thought I'd know where she is," he said.

"Do you?" Marlene pressed.

"I don't know who she is," Oliver replied, "so I don't know how I'd know where she is." He shifted, pulling his ragged coat closer around himself. He had not taken it off back at the house, insisting that he felt better with it on. Aerith had suggested that he could put on some of Denzel's clothes, but he had not wanted to impose that way, especially without asking Denzel.

"Did these men come for you?" Marlene wondered.

"I think they're looking for Julieanna," he said. "And since they thought I'd know where she is, they grabbed me. You were just in the wrong place . . . or I was." He glowered at the metal floor. "I shouldn't have ever let Zack bring me over."

"That's not true," Marlene frowned. "It was cold over there. You needed to come where it was warm. And it sounds like that Del Vinci man might have something to do with what's going wrong for Cloud and the others at their company, so they needed to know about him."

"But now we're in this mess." Oliver looked up at the small windows in the upper part of the doors. "It's weird that the police didn't even find a guard at Del Vinci's place, too. Maybe something went wrong with a rival gang."

"You mean like with people shooting?" Marlene asked, not liking that thought at all.

"Something like that," Oliver said.

Marlene looked at him. "Have you seen a lot of that happening?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Too much."

"It's awful to see people die," Marlene said.

He looked surprised. "You've seen it?"

She nodded. "I saw a lot of people being sad and hurt and dying," she said, her mind awhirl with the destruction of Midgar and the ensuing geostigma. The experiences in those few years had sobered her a great deal, though she did not feel so much like an adult that she no longer wanted to engage in acting like a child and playing anymore. And judging from how Oliver had enjoyed playing ponies with her earlier, he was the same.

"I hate it," Oliver said, bitterness slipping into his voice again. "All I want is to get away from this guy and everything he's doing. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to."

He looked at her. "When the van stops and they open the doors, we'll have to run for it," he said.

She bit her lip. "But where can we go?" she worried. "Maybe we'll be up in the mountains or someplace where we really can't go off alone."

"It'd be better to be out in the cold than to be caught by them," he retorted.

She stared at him. "Are they going to kill us?"

He was silent for a long moment. "They won't kill me," he said. "But I don't know what they're going to do with you. Maybe they'll want to use you so that they can do something to Cloud and the others."

"They can't," Marlene frowned. "I won't let them!"

"Then we have to get away," Oliver told her. "Even if it's the middle of nowhere."

"But we're not even dressed for it," Marlene protested. "We'd get lost and then we'd probably die anyway!"

Oliver sighed, looking down at his ratty clothes and old sneakers.

"Let's wait and see," Marlene pleaded. "I don't want to be with these men, but I don't want to be out in the cold, either."

There was silence for a long moment. ". . . Okay," Oliver said. "If it was me, I'd leave anyway, but I guess I can't do everything I'd like when someone else is along, too."

"Cloud will come for us," Marlene said. "And he won't let these men use him. Just wait and see!"

"They could kill him in an instant," Oliver said, clenching a fist.

"They won't!" Marlene said. "Not Cloud."

"That's what I thought about Dad."

Marlene looked at him. She wanted to say something in reply, but she did not have the chance.

The van came to a halt. Oliver tensed, snapping to attention as he slowly got to his feet. "They're getting out of the cab," he said. "Let's be ready to run, if we can."

Marlene bit her lip, standing as well. What would happen when the doors opened? Would they be able to get away? Would there be anywhere to go if they did? It did not feel like they could have traveled into the canyons, but maybe it was still a really isolated area where they would not be able to get help.

The doors opened. "Okay, brats, let's go," growled one of the men. In one hand he held a gun. Behind him, lights of a nearby residential district were visible.

Oliver snatched Marlene's hand. "Come on!" he ordered, as she gave a cry of surprise. They ran forward, Oliver kicking out at the first man as he leaped into the snow. Not pausing to let Marlene recover, he tore into the street, still gripping her hand. She struggled to keep up, stumbling as the men cursed and yelled. A bullet sailed over her head, landing somewhere nearby.

Oliver gritted his teeth, not slowing his frantic flight. The men were giving chase now. He ducked into the shadows, not watching where he was stepping in his haste to escape. Suddenly the ground gave way under his feet. A gasp left Marlene's lips. They were tumbling down a small hill, over and over and collecting snow before landing in a heap at the bottom. And the men were still coming. They had not found the hill, but they were right above it. Their footsteps stopped in the powder as they beamed their lights around the area. Any minute they would see the decline.

Oliver began to rise, snow falling off his hair and coat. He looked down at the petrified Marlene, who was staring up at him from the snow-covered ground. Holding a finger to his lips, he stood up and waited for her to do the same. Then he grabbed her wrist, leading her around the hill to where several good-sized houses were standing. They would get help at one of them.

After they were out of sight around the corner, the children broke into a run. They dashed up the steps of the first lighted house, Oliver reaching to pound on the door. Marlene stuck close to him, her heart doing somersaults. Would they be discovered? Would the men find them before someone came to the door? Would the people inside the house even help them?

The door opened, revealing a very unamused man with dark hair and pale skin. "What is it?" he frowned, peering through the storm door. He arched an eyebrow at the children's bedraggled appearances.

"You've gotta help us!" Oliver exclaimed. "These guys that work for Del Vinci kidnapped us and we got away, but they're chasing us! They're just right around by the big hill!"

Marlene gave a shaking nod. "We need to get in and call for help!"

For some reason, the man seemed to believe them. "Alright," he said, unlocking the storm door and holding it open. "Come in. But make it quick."

Oliver nodded, hurrying in without bothering to stamp his feet free of the snow. Marlene followed, taking note of the way the light shined on the man's right hand as he closed and locked the door after them.

It did not look natural.


	10. Betrayals and Secrets

**Notes: A couple of lines were added to the last two scenes of the previous chapter to make my intentions more clear. Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help, and to Manders1953 for the inspiration of Vincent's last line and action!**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

"The telephone is on the desk there," the man directed.

"Okay. Thanks!" Oliver said, hurrying over to the device. Marlene followed, glancing at the decor. Vases, urns, and other objects of Chinese and Japanese origin had been placed at key locations around the room. It was fascinating, the way it had all been arranged. It looked like it had been done by a professional. Maybe it even had been.

"You say you were taken by people who work for Del Vinci?" Their host crossed his arms, watching as Oliver picked up the receiver and began to dial 911.

"Yeah," Marlene said. "It was awful."

"What would this Del Vinci want with you?" He studied Marlene, his ice-blue eyes piercing in their gaze.

She looked away, uncomfortable. "I don't know," she said truthfully. Maybe it would be better not to mention anything about this Julieanna person or the fact that they thought Oliver knew where she was. The man had let them come in, but was he trustworthy? She did not like the way he was looking at her. Or the fact that a cold breeze had just passed by when there was nothing around to make it.

"I know you're the ward of Cloud Strife," he answered, his voice flat. "Does Del Vinci want something with him?"

Marlene's eyes widened. "How do you know about Cloud?" she demanded.

"Ooh, she's fiesty," an almost identical voice purred from another location.

Marlene whirled to look in that direction. No one was there. She frowned, looking back at the man--who was also looking in that direction, annoyance written on his features.

"Nevermind that," he said, finally glancing back at Marlene.

"What was it?" Oliver frowned, hanging up with the police. They had promised to search through the area and to go to the house where Oliver and Marlene had originally been taken. The officer he had spoken to had commented on all the trouble Del Vinci seemed to be causing of late, referring to the earlier call to investigate one of Del Vinci's manors. Oliver had just replied with a "Yeah" instead of going on to say that the first call had been placed because of him, too. He wanted them to hurry, not to linger talking about him.

"It's nothing to worry about," their host replied now. "Are you planning to call Cloud as well?"

Marlene nodded. "Yeah."

"I want to speak with him when you reach him." It was a statement, not a request.

Marlene reached for the phone, dialing Cloud's cellphone number. "Does he know you?" she asked, still defensive.

"Yes." The man remained unruffled, while Oliver gave him a suspicious glare.

Marlene shifted her weight. The phone had rung two, three times. Would Cloud answer? Or was he in trouble too? What if more of Del Vinci's men had found him and the others?

Finally there was a click.

"Yeah?" Cloud sounded strained and worried. Aerith or Tifa had probably already told him about the kidnapping.

"Cloud!" Marlene exclaimed. She did not know if she had ever been this relieved to hear him.

"Marlene?!" Now Cloud was shocked, as if not quite willing to believe this was real. "Where are you?"

"At some man's house," she said. "Oliver and I got away from the bad men and fell down a hill and came to a house to get help. Del Vinci's men are looking for us!"

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"We're okay!" she said. "What about Aerith and Tifa?!"

"They're fine," Cloud said. "Can you give me the address of the house you're at?"

"No," Marlene said with hesitance. "But this man wants to talk to you. Maybe he can tell you."

"Huh?"

Marlene passed the phone to their host, who accepted it with his left hand. "Your ward's been getting into a lot of trouble," he said into the mouthpiece. "And she's picked up a new friend."

If Cloud had been stunned before, now he was floored. "Azazel Rakesh?!" he said in disbelief. Overhearing through the phone, Marlene stiffened.

"Yes, they happened to find our house," Azazel said. "It's a strange coincidence." He crossed his right arm over his chest, placing his hand on his left upper arm. "What does Del Vinci have to do with you?"

"What does he have to do with _you?_" Cloud retorted, not entirely sure he liked the idea of Marlene being in Azazel and Dalton's house.

"He shouldn't have anything to do with us," Azazel said. "But I've heard the name."

"He's got some of our stuff in his manor, but we don't know where it is," Cloud grumbled. "The kid Oliver can tell you the rest. We still don't know how mixed up Del Vinci is in the case as a whole. We have to talk to Linda first. But right now we're coming there. Don't let anything happen to the kids," he added, his tone harsh.

"I wasn't planning to," Azazel said dryly. "Do you need the address?"

"No," Cloud said. "We got it off one of the notes that was sent to the eavesdropper."

"Well, that's convenient," Azazel remarked, obviously displeased that the note sender had learned it. He was not very happy that Cloud and the others knew it, either.

Oliver walked over near Marlene. "What kind of weird place is this?" he hissed. "It feels like everything's looking at us!"

Marlene shook her head. "I don't like it," she declared. And she liked it even less now that she realized they were in Azazel Rakesh's home. Dalton was supposed to live here too. Hopefully Cloud would come soon and get them away from here. And hopefully Del Vinci and his men would be caught before they could hurt anyone else.

A red-haired woman suddenly sauntered into the room from another location down the hall. "Oh, so this is why it's been taking you so long to come back?" she commented to Azazel, even though he was still on the phone. She looked to the children, studying them with her sharp green eyes. Her gaze rested on Oliver for much longer. He flinched.

"Why are you here?!" he screamed.

Azazel narrowed his eyes at all the noise as he replaced the receiver back in its cradle. "Do you know each other?" he asked, looking back and forth between the boy and the woman.

"Why, of course not!" she exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest as if to say "Who, me?" She tossed her red curls back over her shoulder. "I'm Mr. Rakesh's secretary, darling," she added, looking to Oliver with a definite superior air laced by false sweetness. "Your untimely arrival interrupted some work we were doing."

Oliver shook his head with vehemence, taking a step back. "You came and talked to Del Vinci sometimes!" he accused. "You're part of the whole thing!" He looked to Azazel. "And that means we can't trust you, either!"

Genuine shock registered on Azazel's features. He frowned, looking back to the redhead. "Is this true?" he demanded.

Now she was the one to look surprised. "You can't mean you believe this disrespectful delinquent, Azazel darling?!" she cried, looking for all the world like a wounded deer. "I've worked with you all these months, and then for my word to be cast aside like an old shoe. . . ."

"Save it. I never did like your flirting ways and your mock sense of innocence," Azazel retorted. "The boy doesn't have any reason to lie. You do." He narrowed his eyes. "How does Del Vinci fit into any of this? How do _you?_"

Marlene looked back and forth between them. Her heart was beginning to pound again. She had not liked the creepy feeling in this house, but she had hoped that she and Oliver would not be in actual danger here, since Cloud was working with Azazel and Dalton on this mystery. Now what was going to happen? If the secretary had been to see Del Vinci, would she try to take them back to him now? Would Azazel try to stop her at all? She gripped a handful of the bottom of her sweater shirt.

"You'd better answer him, Vivalene," the mysterious voice from nowhere purred again.

The woman glared in its general direction. "I'm really so insulted," she said, turning back to Azazel. "Even using your ventriloquism against me. I believe I'll be announcing my resignation on the spot. I can certainly find a better job elsewhere."

"Such as with Del Vinci?" Azazel retorted. He reached into his suit jacket with his left hand, drawing out a revolver. Marlene gasped in alarm.

"Now, now," Vivalene purred, her entire demeanor shifting. "Do we really need to resort to such naughty tactics? But of course." From her handbag she withdrew a weapon of her own, but instead of pointing it at Azazel, she trained it on Marlene. The poor girl stiffened.

"What are you doing?!" Oliver yelled.

"Well, you see, the girl really was never meant to be part of the equation," Vivalene said, her smile dark and cold. "She shouldn't have been picked up in the first place. So maybe . . . eliminating her from the equation would solve a few problems. And you . . ." She frowned at Oliver. "Did you really think you could fool us, or rather, me? I can recognize an amateur."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Oliver said in defiance.

Vivalene sighed in a bored sort of way. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," she conceded.

Suddenly she froze as a weapon was held at her own back.

"I must confess, I don't quite know what's being discussed, either," a broad man remarked, having come up from behind Vivalene. "But I do know this is far too much commotion for me."

A smirk crossed Vivalene's features. "You don't let even amnesia slow you down, Dalton darling," she commented. "I wasn't really surprised when you came with Azazel to the company today. After all, Casey did his job so well and reported that you'd met up with each other. The 'eavesdropper', you know." Apparently she had been listening to Azazel and Cloud's telephone conversation on an extension.

"_You_ hired him?" Azazel glared.

"Oh no," she replied. "But I heard his reports."

Oliver grabbed Marlene's wrist. "They're all occupied," he hissed. "Let's hide somewhere while we wait for Cloud."

"But where?" Marlene exclaimed. "And what if he comes and they're all shooting at each other and he gets hurt?!"

"You're the one who figured he'd be just fine," Oliver retorted. "What are you thinking about doing? If you stand around here, you'll probably get shot by the crazy lady." He moved to run to the right into the large kitchen. With her wrist still being clutched, Marlene was forced to run with him.

A silent bullet landed in the floor right at her feet. She cried out, leaping aside. Oliver stopped, looking back to her.

"Leaving so soon?" Vivalene said, blowing out the whiff of smoke from her gun. "I think not."

"I'd really prefer not to kill you yet," Azazel frowned. "You have information I want. Unfortunately, I'm probably not going to get it from you." His revolver clicked as he switched off the safety.

"Indeed," Dalton said, "you seem quite taciturn on the subject. However, I must wonder if you're the second-in-command referred to at the location where I was being held hostage, as they did say 'she.' And since I am not the commander-in-chief of this little smuggling ring, as Marcel and the others tried to make me believe, perhaps that actually makes _you_ the ringleader?"

Vivalene paused. "Or perhaps it means that there is still someone above me," she said. "At least, someone who thinks he's in charge, as you do. Such a pity you both have to be proven wrong!" Without warning she whirled, firing point blank at Dalton. At the same moment, Azazel opened fire on her.

Marlene screamed, looking away from the sight. Oliver gripped her wrist tighter, running into the kitchen and pulling her with him.

"She's the one in charge, alright," he muttered as he looked for a place where they could hide. "I always sensed it. She was just leading Del Vinci on while he was useful to her. Maybe she's even already done away with him and that's why he wasn't home."

"Why is she doing these things?!" Marlene exclaimed. She broke away from Oliver, running to a large cabinet in the island counter. Throwing open the oak wood door, she found the space beyond to be empty. But it would not fit both of them. She looked to Oliver, motioning for him to get inside.

He shook his head, indicating for her to enter. Everything was now quiet in the living room. If Vivalene had survived, she would be coming in here any minute. He pushed on Marlene's back, trying to get her to climb into the space. Finally, frightened, she began to obey. He did not answer her question, not wanting to give any hints to Vivalene about their location by speaking. Instead he moved to close the cabinet.

Marlene stared at him, her wide brown eyes shining in the dark space. What was going to happen to him? Was he going to let Vivalene take him, if she came in? Maybe he was having her hide because Vivalene had said that she was not important. But what had the awful woman meant by saying that Oliver had not fooled her and that he was an amateur? He was not part of the plot, was he? No, she would not believe that he had been working on Del Vinci's side! He was sincere about his disgust of that man.

The cupboard door closed halfway before the mysterious voice, eerily similar to Azazel's, stopped Oliver in his act. "What have we here? Two scared little mice, hiding from the cat."

Oliver turned around, glaring at thin air. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Marlene gasped as an Azazel lookalike made himself visible. "Hello," he greeted.

And then it all clicked together in her mind. Too much had been happening at once for her to fully process any of it until now. If they had been talking to Azazel Rakesh in the living room, and Dalton had been there too, then this could only be one person.

"You're the mean ghost that controlled Cloud!" she spat.

Oliver gave her a weird look. "Ghost?" he said.

Marlene nodded. "Yeah!" She frowned at the spectre, who only looked amused. "Shouldn't you be out there, helping your brother and Dalton?"

"They don't need my help now," was the reply.

"Are they dead?" Marlene said with suspicion.

"If they were, you'd see them here with me," the ghost replied, purposely obnoxious. "And the woman's gone too. You can go ahead and come out."

Marlene did not trust him, but she began to move towards the doorway of the cabinet. "Where did she go?" she asked.

"Out the window. But she didn't get away unscathed." The spirit sounded proud. "Azazel shot her in the shoulder. That should slow her down a little, anyway."

"How could Dalton not be dead?" Oliver frowned. "Vivalene shot him in the face."

"Actually, she shot off my glasses."

The children whirled at the sound of Dalton's voice. He was standing in the doorway, looking somewhat perturbed as he held up the two severed pieces of his eyeglasses. The bullet had struck them right in the center, on the part that fit over the bridge of the nose. A bit of blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, but it was a superficial wound.

"You were lucky," Azazel commented in a matter-of-fact tone as he came up alongside his ally. He appeared unharmed, though annoyed by Vivalene's escape.

"And all of this over a couple of children?" Dalton said, looking to Oliver and Marlene. "Whatever have you done to catch the interest of someone like Del Vinci?"

Oliver shrugged, kicking at the linoleum. He did not particularly want to tell these people about his past. He did not trust them, and it was apparent that Marlene did not think very highly of them.

"He thinks Oliver knows something he doesn't," Marlene spoke, hoping to end the subject.

Instead it was a sharp knock on the door that redirected everyone's attention.

"I do hope that's Mr. Strife and not another problem," Dalton said.

"Not that 'Mr. Strife' being at our house isn't a problem," the ghost said. "Of course Sephiroth and Commander Fair will be with him."

Azazel grunted. "You'll have to deal with it," he replied. "And both of you stay in the kitchen," he added, looking to Marlene and Oliver. "If it's Del Vinci's men, then Gunju will take you somewhere else."

"Me?" the ghost retorted. "Why?"

"Because you can pull tricks that Dalton and I can't," Azazel said, giving him a bored look as he crossed into the living room.

Oliver folded his arms. "I don't want some ghost looking after us," he said.

"Well, I don't either, especially this one," Marlene frowned. "But we'll have to anyway. Cloud's coming here, if he's not here now. We need to wait for him." She strained, desperation building as she listened for a familiar voice. It had to be Cloud. He had to be okay.

And right now she wanted nothing more than to get home and to have this whole nightmarish experience come to an end. She would need to tell Cloud about Vivalene's weird comments to Oliver, too--but first she wanted to ask Oliver herself and see if he would tell her. And that would have to wait; he was not likely to say anything in the presence of Gunju.

"Are the kids still here?"

Relief washed over Marlene at the voice from the living room. She could not contain herself any longer. "Cloud!" she exclaimed, running past Oliver and into the living room. In the open doorway, Cloud was suddenly embraced by a frantic tornado.

"Marlene," he said in surprise, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Marlene buried her face in Cloud's shirt, hugging him close.

"We had a little excitement here," Dalton said, glancing back to the kitchen as Oliver stepped through the doorway.

Cloud frowned. "What happened?" he demanded. Whatever it was, it had badly shaken Marlene. And it had not done much for Dalton, either.

"My secretary is a traitor," Azazel said, crossing his arms. "She works with Del Vinci and tried to take the boy. She also tried to shoot the girl."

"Who is your secretary?" Sephiroth asked as he, Zack, and Angeal made their way to the porch. Cloud had gone ahead of them while Angeal had looked for a way to park on the icy driveway. When they had exited the vehicle to follow Cloud, Sephiroth had noticed blood in the snow--which was not something any of them had wanted to see.

"She gave her name to me as Vivalene," Azazel said.

Zack's mouth dropped open. "You've gotta be kidding! She was at Thorton's place earlier, before we found you guys. She was flirting with all of us."

Azazel narrowed his eyes. "I think you'd better all come in," he said. "We have more to discuss."

"Besides, you're letting in a draft," Dalton complained.

Cloud frowned, looking down to Marlene. What he would rather do would be to take the kids home now and then come back. But would it really be safer for them there? They had both been snatched from there tonight. And Azazel was right--they needed to talk about this new development. The kids would have their side of the story to tell too.

"Marlene, I know you probably want to go home now," he said.

She nodded, not looking up.

"But we need to know about what happened to you and Oliver tonight," Cloud continued. "And we need to talk about it and try to figure out how to stop it from happening again."

"Yeah. . . ." She sighed, finally looking up at him. "So we're staying?"

"Just for a little bit." He hoped.

Marlene looked downcast, but was willing to cooperate. She stepped back, allowing Cloud and the others to come in and shut the door behind them.

"By the way," Gunju remarked, coming out of the kitchen, "my brother has no knowledge of ventriloquism."

Zack blinked at him. "Eh?" he said, wondering if it was some in-joke that he was too tired to get.

"Nevermind," Azazel said with an irritated wave of his hand.

* * *

Genesis was sitting in his rental car in the dark, outside the hotel Vincent had chosen for Mr. Latham. Oddly enough, it was the same hotel where Genesis himself was registered. And that annoying woman Vivalene, too.

He was still not sure what to make of her. During their conversation the previous night over a drink or two, he had not learned much of anything. But she had not found anything out, either. He had made sure to tell her as little about himself as possible, and to give misleading responses to the queries he did answer.

She had said one very interesting thing, however--that if he wanted a good meal, he should go to Ambrogio's and say Vivalene had sent him. And then while staking out the location on his lunch break the next day, he had found Sephiroth and the others there as well. After overhearing a bit of their conversation on the restaurant's part in the matter concerning them, he had decided all the more that it would be worth investigating Ambrogio's. Hence, he had returned that evening using the fake name he had given Vincent.

He was really not any closer to a solution now than he had been in the afternoon. What he had learned only accentuated the confusion. It was as if he was putting together an enormous jigsaw puzzle. He had the borders, or some of them, but the interior was a mess. There was an assortment of pieces from all over the picture, and though he could see more or less the section where some of them fit, he could not yet connect them to any other pieces. Then there were still other pieces that did not seem to fit at all. The Del Vinci angle was one of those. It seemed completely independent of the smugglers' mystery that he had learned about, but intuition told him it was not. Everything connected in some way.

A shadow caught out of the corner of his eye brought his attention to the right. A yellow cab was pulling up to the curb. A single figure alighted, turned to pay the driver, and then began to come up the walkway. Mako eyes narrowed as he observed. It was a woman, he could tell that much. But as she passed under a streetlamp, his eyes widened in surprise. It was Vivalene.

Why had she not come in her pale blue car? More to the point, why was she walking with her right shoulder so stiff? She acted as though it pained her. And she was sporting a sling. He could see that now that she was closer. Without noticing his car, she passed by and walked towards the back entrance to the hotel. She did not want to be seen.

"Something tells me you've been up to some mischief," Genesis mused aloud. "And something tells me I'm going to turn the tables and follow you."

As quiet as possible, he opened the car door. Then he stepped out, shutting it behind him. By now Vivalene had slipped through the entrance. In a calm and nonchalant manner, Genesis walked across the parking lot and to the door as well. Pulling it open, he slipped inside.

Vivalene was going up the carpeted steps, apparently not even wanting to take her chances with the elevator. Or maybe she just liked stairs; she had used the stairwell to chase after him last night. The thought of turning her tactics against her was too amusing. Gripping the banister, Genesis started up after her.

"Oh, Ms. Vivalene," he spoke, never once abandoning his self-assured manner, "I was hoping I'd catch you."

She froze, turning on the stairs to look at him. For a moment nothing but annoyance and even anger over being interrupted flashed in her eyes. But then she smiled. "Why, Mr. Rhapsodos darling," she greeted, her voice thick and silky. "This is a surprise. Do tell me, how did you find me this way?" She took in his appearance. "And wherever did you go? Oh, I'm so sad you didn't ask me to come too."

"I was outside, watching the hotel," he smiled. "I saw you arrive by sheer coincidence. And you see me dressed this way because I took you up on your offer. I went to Ambrogio's tonight."

She did not seem surprised. "I knew it would be just the place for you," she said. "How did you like it?"

"Very well," he said, advancing another step. "And mentioning your name did get me a discount and even a free dessert. You must be an amazing benefactor for the business."

"I am quite well-liked there," she said, brushing her curls away from her face with her free hand.

He gave a deliberate pause. "There were some . . . odd developments too," he commented. "I don't know whether they had any connection with asking for you or not, but I wanted to mention them anyway." He pretended to scrutinize her sling. "It seems that you've had a very trying evening," he said.

She laughed. "A bit of an odd development on my part, too," she said. "Do come upstairs and we'll exchange tales."

"I hoped you would suggest it," he said.

She led him up the flights of stairs and to the floor they shared. As they reached her room, she fished her card key out of her purse and swiped it through the slot. The door clicked and she pushed it open.

"I'm really rather shocked about what happened to me," she said as she stepped inside and reached for the lightswitch. "It was my own employer who did this to me. Can you believe it? The man must be mad!"

Genesis followed, closing the door after him. "Why did he do it?" he asked. From what he knew of Azazel Rakesh, it did not seem a terribly far-fetched action. But he also had the feeling he was not going to get the complete story from this woman.

"I don't know," Vivalene said, a trace of sadness in her voice. "I'd finished his work for him and tried to . . . get a little closer to him. He didn't like that."

"He shot you because you were being seductive?" Genesis asked. Hmm, now he was picking up one of Sephiroth's traits. That was much more blunt than was usual for him.

"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," Vivalene said. "That makes me sound so . . . cheap." She crossed the room to the small refrigerator. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you," he said. "I believe I had quite enough at Ambrogio's."

"You must have really enjoyed yourself, darling." Taking a glass out of the fridge, she placed it on the table and reached for a bottle of wine. Pouring herself a bit, she replaced the bottle, closed the fridge, and took up the glass. "A toast to an eventful evening," she said. "Now, how about telling me of the odd things at the restaurant?"

He watched her carefully as he spoke. "A waitress whom the owner claims does not work there left me a message," he said. "She said a Mr. Latham wanted to see me. So I went to his table and found that Mr. Latham really had no idea who I was, nor did he know anything about a message. He was very excitable. In the end he believed I made it all up because I wanted to kill him."

Vivalene showed no reaction. "Oh my," she said, sipping the wine. "What happened?"

"Another man dining there confirmed my story that there was a waitress," he said. "Later he took Mr. Latham home."

"A friend of his, then?" she mused.

"I don't believe they'd ever met," Genesis returned.

"And what about this waitress?" Vivalene walked over to where the couch was located. As she sank into it, she gestured for Genesis to do the same. "Please sit down, darling," she invited.

He sat on the edge of the couch, again watching her for a reaction. "The most interesting thing about the waitress was that she reminded me of you," he said.

"Really," Vivalene said. Finishing off the wine, she set the glass down and turned her full attention to him. She looked more intrigued now than anything else. "How so?"

"There were so many reasons," he answered. "She was about the same size and height as you. Her eyes were blue, but her hair was red. It was a darker shade, yet I thought of you anyway. And there was the whole matter of how she stirred up such a commotion and then disappeared. That sounds like something you might do as well."

Something flickered in her eyes. Was it surprise? Suspicion? Apprehension?

She leaned back, a smile gracing her features. "I should like to meet her," she said, acting altogether oblivious to what Genesis was insinuating.

"Maybe you have," he said.

Her eyes widened as she laid a hand on her chest. "Surely you don't think _I_ . . ."

"With a bit of makeup I'm sure you could pull it off," he told her. "Did you take drama class in school?"

She shrugged. "I believe I was in a school play or two." She smirked, resting her elbow on the top of the couch. "Unfortunately, I couldn't have played the waitress, as I was with Azazel all evening after Fragmented Triangle closed. But for sport's sake let's say I did it anyway! First I would need a motive. What reason could I possibly have for doing such a thing?"

"Maybe you wanted to see how I would handle the chaos that ensued?" Genesis mused. "You seemed to be sizing me up for something. Do I make the cut?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Rhapsodos," Vivalene smiled. "Though I _was_ wondering what kind of a catch you would be."

He turned to further face her, copying her motion of propping himself up on an elbow. "And?"

"I believe it would be . . . very . . . fascinating." She leaned in, as if intending to kiss him.

And the door crashed against the wall, banging on its hinges.

Both Vivalene and Genesis looked up with a start. A very unamused Vincent was standing in the doorway, gun in hand.

Vivalene leaned back, quickly regaining her composure. "Well, I know the sign on my door says 'Please Knock', but I really wasn't expecting such a ferocious display of knocking," she said. "Pray tell, who are you, darling?"

"I want some answers," Vincent said, ignoring her question. "Who are you? Both of you." He stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

"I already gave you my name," Genesis said, getting to his feet.

"Gackt. I know." Vincent trained the gun on the auburn-haired man. "What's your real name?"

"Aren't you supposed to be with Mr. Latham?" Genesis returned.

"Mr. Latham is on his way to the hospital," Vincent growled. "Something he ate or drank _was_ poisoned. It had a delayed reaction." He peered at the other man. "And in light of everything that's been happening tonight, I wonder if he was on the right track when he said you wanted to kill him."

Genesis stared. "He actually was poisoned?" he exclaimed. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out sooner or later." Vincent glowered. "You haven't answered my question."

"Pardon me, but I would like one answered," Vivalene interjected. "This is _my_ room. This nice man with whom you seem to be acquainted has a different room. How did you know to come here?"

"I was just down the hall when you came up," Vincent said. "I listened and waited until it was the right time to come in."

"But it really wasn't," Vivalene objected. "We were just getting to know each other better."

He frowned at her. "I bet."

"And you're such a naughty boy, to be eavesdropping," Vivalene smirked. "Not to mention breaking and entering. Why, I could scream for help right now and everyone on this floor would come running."

"But you won't." His eyes narrowed further. "You don't want to draw any more attention to yourself."

"Alright. So what do you want?" she asked, standing up as well. "Besides this man's name. I know it, but I won't tell you." She winked. "Not unless you can pay my price. I could use a good ruby."

He was unamused. "I want to know what's going on with Del Vinci and Latham and what kind of involvement you have with it."

Without warning his phone rang. In irritation he dug it out of his pocket, while still keeping the gun steady in his other hand. As he flipped open the phone and brought it to his ear, Cloud's voice came over the receiver.

"Vincent?"

"What is it." His tone of voice said for Cloud to quickly arrive at the point.

"Things just got more weird here," Cloud said. "We were talking about everything else that's happened and Zack wondered if you've found out anything new."

Vincent looked from G to Vivalene. He did not want to say much in front of them. "You go first," he said.

Cloud proceeded to tell about Del Vinci's manor, the abduction, and the showdown at Azazel Rakesh's house. Vincent's feelings toward Vivalene only grew more unfavorable.

"I might have something for you," he said. "I'll call you back." With that he hung up.

"Who was that?" Vivalene asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your client?" Apparently she thought he was a mercenary too. Or G had told her that.

"Someone who told me something interesting," he said. "Five people just spoke against that story you told about your shoulder. A sixth let me in on it."

G was interested. "And what tale did you hear this time?" he asked.

"Your name is Vivalene," Vincent said, looking back to the woman. "You tried to kill one child and take another one captive. Then you tried to kill Azazel Rakesh and his ally Dalton. Rakesh shot you when you were trying to escape."

She gave him a mock-wounded look. "So many people are saying cruel things about me," she said.

"You still deny it?" Vincent's voice was steel.

She shrugged. "Well . . . I was thinking of it," she said, "but since so many people are in agreement . . . think fast!" Without warning she produced a small oval-shaped object from her handbag and threw it at the two men. They leaped back as it hit the floor. Pinkish-lavender smoke began to fill the room.

"It's been so much fun, darlings, but I believe our little excursion is over!" she called, vanishing into the fog.

Vincent coughed, covering his nose and mouth. "She's heading for the door," he said through his hand. "Come on."

"On the contrary, she might be planning to climb down the fire escape," G said.

"With one hand?" Vincent felt his way along the wall. Here was the door, and it was closed. He threw it open, letting in the fresh air from the hall. And the corridors were empty. The woman was nothing short of daring. Maybe the strange man was right.

He turned, making his way back into the room. The smoke was beginning to disperse, allowing him to see G heading for a room in the suite that was likely the woman's bedroom. Keeping his gun ready, Vincent followed.

G was standing on the balcony by the time Vincent arrived a moment later. A deep frown graced G's features as he stared into the winter's night. Several snowflakes were at last descending from the overcast sky, landing and sticking on the metal stairs leading to the ground from the balcony. Old snow was still on most of the steps as well, and it was untouched. No one had come up or down by that route.

The auburn-haired man turned to face the annoyed ex-Turk. "She isn't here," he said.

"She wasn't in the hall, either," Vincent grunted.

"Hmm. What does that leave?" G mused. He leaned over the front of the balcony. It was far too high for anyone to jump. And anyway, the snow several stories below also looked undisturbed.

Vincent walked out onto the balcony as well. He looked upward. But that also seemed ridiculous. She had definitely been shot. How much climbing could she do with one arm, even if she happened to be very skilled at it?

"Unless she flew away, she's done a very good job of vanishing into thin air," G said, following Vincent's gaze.

"You're calm about it," Vincent commented, going back into the bedroom. What if she had fooled them by hiding somewhere in the suite? Then, when both of them were outside, she could have escaped out the front door. It was a cheap trick. He should have thought of that possibility before running onto the balcony with G.

How did he even know yet if he could trust G? What if he had been in on the plan and he had deliberately gone to the balcony to assist in her ploy?

A swift glance around the room revealed nothing out of place--at least nothing that would help them find any clues. A sheer negligeé had been tossed across the bed, and a comb and brush had been left on the nightstand, but other than that there were not even any signs that the room had been occupied. In irritation he opened the drawers, routing through the clothes. Still nothing. And she had brought so many things, she had obviously planned to stay for a long time. What would she do without access to all of these clothes? Maybe she would just buy more.

He crossed the room and entered the bathroom. The glass shower door was open, revealing the empty space. A bit of lipstick had been left on the sink's counter, but that was hardly a helpful clue--unless it was some fancy brand only available at a certain place. And with the world of online shopping, that did not seem likely. In any case, the actual tubes were unavailable. They were likely somewhere in her bottomless handbag that seemed to hold everything she might need at any given moment.

"I have an idea," G announced as he came and stood in the doorway. "Let's go downstairs and see if we can learn whether Vivalene has any unclaimed mail."

Vincent grunted. "The desk clerk isn't supposed to give out that kind of information," he retorted.

"On the contrary," G smirked, "if it's one clerk in particular, I'm sure he will assist us." There was a bit of bitterness in his smirk as he walked past. "In fact," he called back, "by the time you get downstairs, I'll probably already have the answer."

Vincent narrowed his eyes, hurrying after G. He was in a big hurry to get away. Could the reason be because he thought the clerk might greet him by his real name? He would not want Vincent to overhear that.

There was no sign of G when Vincent re-entered the living room. But instead of bothering to look for him, Vincent walked out the front door and into the hall. G was still not around. He might be taking the stairs. Vincent turned, heading for the elevator.

* * *

Apparently the clerk had stepped away for a short break. When Vincent reached the ground floor, no one was at the desk. And G had the gall to have gone around to the other side of the desk, looking at the room number for each mail cubby before finding the correct one.

"Ah, she does have mail," G announced, still with his back to Vincent. Either he was completely stupid or he was completely aware of Vincent's presence.

"Is it anything useful?" Vincent asked.

G walked back around the desk, looking at a lone, long white envelope. "It looks like junk mail," he frowned. "It's from some sweepstakes. Everyone knows those are rigged."

"Or non-existent to begin with." Vincent studied the return address. Something clicked in his mind. "Let me see that," he said.

"You are seeing it," G replied, but handed it to him.

"'Diamond Rose Lodge,'" Vincent read. That was like the strange piece of paper Linda had dropped that said "The diamond rose glass will have to wait." It would be too odd if this address was a coincidence. He needed to get it to Cloud immediately.

"Does that mean anything to you?" G frowned, folding his arms across his chest.

"It might. I'm going to show it to my 'client.'" Vincent grabbed G's upper arm. "And you're coming with me," he added, his voice not leaving room for arguments.


	11. Allies and Revelations

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Genesis was at first perturbed by Vincent's sudden action. He only wanted to unequivocally reveal his presence on his own terms and in his own time. Vincent would not decide it for him. As far as Genesis was concerned, the right time had not yet arrived.

He wrenched his arm away. "I really won't be of much more use to you on this case," he said, straightening his suit jacket. "I suggest you take that envelope to Mr. Strife and not worry about what I'm doing."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. He had never mentioned Cloud's name. "You know more than you should," he retorted. "That's enough to make me concerned."

Genesis shrugged. "In the overall picture, I don't know any more than you," he said. "And I must bid you adieu."

At that moment, a group of people were getting off the elevator. Genesis headed directly for them, pushing his way into the crowd. Vincent glowered in frustration, moving to chase after him. The people, already confused, were further bewildered when the stern-faced, dark-haired man passed through their ranks as well. When he arrived at the end of the group, the enigmatic stranger was nowhere in sight.

Crimson eyes darkened. He should have known G would pull any stunt he could to get away. Gackt, or Project G, or whoever he was, did not want to meet up with the others. What kind of secret agenda did he have? And was this actually something that Vincent should not have to worry about, as G had told him? Maybe the mystery surrounding him really did not connect with the mystery Vincent was helping to solve. And maybe it should be left alone for now.

"Vincent!"

He turned at the sound of Cloud's voice. The blond, as well as Sephiroth, were coming over to him. Behind them were two others, one of whom looked vaguely familiar. The crowd of people, dispersing now, glanced over their shoulders at the new arrivals.

"What's going on?" Cloud frowned, seeing Vincent's concentrated expression.

Vincent shook his head. "I lost someone," he grunted, looking past Cloud at the others. Now he knew why the one man looked familiar. Vincent had nearly run him down earlier that day. And he was recalling now that the broad man matched a description Cloud had once given him of Dalton. That meant that the other stranger must be Azazel Rakesh.

"Who did you lose?" Sephiroth asked, crossing his arms.

"Nevermind." Vincent held out the envelope. "Vivalene got away, too," he reported. "This was in her mailbox."

Sephiroth took it from Vincent, studying the return address. "'Diamond Rose Lodge,'" he mused. "I've never heard of it."

"I almost thought you were going to say Diamond Rose Ranch, good sir," Dalton commented in sarcasm, pushing his spare glasses up on his nose. "'Diamond Rose' sounds more like that kind of establishment as opposed to a _lodge_."

"Not a fan of ranches, I guess," Cloud said. Not that he cared.

"Not especially," Dalton said.

"It sounds like some Old West girl's name," Cloud complained.

Sephiroth ignored the comments. "Let's go to the limo to open this," he directed. "Technically this is a federal offense."

"It's just a sweepstakes," Cloud said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like she's really won anything--just the chance to get four magazine subscriptions cheap. And four more after that, and four more after _that,_ and it just goes on and on without any resolution."

"Perhaps we should open it," Dalton suggested, gesturing to himself and Azazel. "Or Azazel, at any rate. After all, she was his secretary."

Sephiroth grunted, not agreeing either way. He turned, heading for the door. The others followed.

"Why are you here?" Vincent asked as they went through the revolving doors and into the snowy night.

"The home address Vivalene gave me was for this hotel," Azazel answered. "We decided to come here looking for her."

"Meanwhile, Zack called Thorton at his house to get Linda's address," Cloud said as they began their journey through the parking lot. "So he and Angeal went to her place to try to find her."

Before coming to the hotel, the others had returned the children to a very relieved Aerith and Tifa, and Sephiroth had seen to it that extra security guards were posted around the grounds. Others were stationed right in the house. He was highly annoyed, and he was not going to take any more chances on a second break-in. The others, including Cloud, concurred.

Cloud was also wondering what on earth the truth was about Oliver. Dalton had mentioned what Vivalene had told the kid. And it did not make sense. What was Oliver an amateur in? Dalton thought it sounded bad for the boy's integrity, and Cloud had been thinking to himself that it did sound that way, as if Vivalene was scolding him for doing a bad job of spying or some other underhanded deed. Then again, she had said Oliver had not fooled "them" or "her", which could indicate just the opposite, that maybe he had pretended to be on their side but was not. Yet he had not acted as though he had ever even pretended to work with them.

Of course, when Oliver had been asked what Vivalene had meant, he had shrugged and not really answered. Annoyed, Sephiroth had told him that if he was holding back some important information he could impair the entire case. But Oliver had not budged. By now even Zack believed that Oliver was hiding something, but he continued to insist that he did not think Oliver was on the bad guys' side. Maybe Oliver was spooked out of his mind, Zack had suggested, and believed he was protecting someone, possibly the Julieanna person. Sephiroth had said that by saying nothing, he would likely be putting her in more danger. And Oliver seemed to be an intelligent boy, so he would surely realize that fact. Everyone was stymied.

Sephiroth unlocked the limousine as they approached it. Walking around to the driver's side, he hauled open the door and slid inside. "What happened to Latham?" he asked as the others climbed in too.

"He was poisoned after all," Vincent explained for the second time. "Gackt said he didn't do it."

"Is he dead?" Cloud frowned.

Vincent leaned back in the seat. "He wasn't when I left him at the ambulance," he said. "They thought they'd be able to save him. I was going to call the hospital later and see how he is."

"Do you believe this . . . Gackt gentleman didn't do it?" Dalton asked.

"I don't know." Brief irritation flashed in Vincent's eyes as he recalled how the other man had eluded him. "It depends on whose side he's on."

"A lot of things depend on whose side people are on," Cloud muttered. He sighed, leaning back as he looked over at Vincent. "Thanks for doing this tonight," he said. "It sounds like it was a lot more hectic than I even figured it'd be."

Vincent grunted. "I didn't mind."

Sephiroth passed the envelope to Azazel. "Open it," he said.

A bit surprised that Sephiroth was actually handing it over, Azazel took it. Tearing open the flap, he removed several folded sheets of paper. He frowned as he spread them on his lap. There was the usual letter welcoming the person to the sweepstakes, the page of stamps of magazines that could be sampled, and various other odd and ends.

"It looks like your typical sweepstakes package," he said.

Sephiroth turned around in the seat to get a better look. "Is this part of a typical sweepstakes package?" he grunted, picking up a small rectangular card. It seemed to be a postcard, as it was made of thick paper and bore a glossy image of a large home with stained glass windows. On the opposite side, a short message had been scrawled.

_The girl's gonna prove to be a problem, Boss. How long can we leave her alive before she spills the beans_

_on everything? And there's Del Vinci, too. He knows you're up to something. He's gonna make things really_

_rough for us if he finds out the truth. Actually, maybe he's already started. I bet you anything his men burned_

_Marcel's house! It was probably a warning to tell us we can't go against him. Marcel's one of our best agents,_

_too. Going after him must be Del Vinci's way of saying he can get any one of us if he puts his mind to it._

"Is 'the girl' Jessie Thorton?" Cloud wondered, taking the card from Sephiroth.

"That would be my guess," Sephiroth said. "Or maybe Julieanna is more likely, since in order for her to 'spill the beans' she would have to be roaming free somewhere."

"Or maybe Jessie escaped," Zack suggested.

"With her injuries, it's not likely," Vincent said.

Sephiroth nodded his assent. "The envelope is postmarked early this morning. The communication may have been written last night." He studied the envelope again. There was not anything special about it to indicate extra postage had been paid for a rush delivery. More than likely it had been mailed in town. The zip code for the Diamond Rose Lodge indicated it was somewhere near Domino. Maybe it was in the canyons.

"If Del Vinci did set fire to Marcel's house, that seems to indicate that we've walked right into a grim feud," Dalton said.

"This case just keeps getting better," Cloud muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"These criminals are smart," Sephiroth said, looking through the rest of the contents while Azazel watched Cloud examining the postcard. "They might communicate all the time by inserting their messages into sweepstakes and other junk mail offers."

Cloud snorted. "Smart, alright," he said. "Everybody gets a truckload of junk mail every day. No one would think to look for anything suspicious in pre-approved credit card offers and sweepstakes packages."

Sephiroth leaned back, picking up the envelope once more. "This could be in the canyons above the city," he mused. "If I can find the precise location on a map, we should attempt going there." He glanced up at the snow. "If this storm turns out to be very bad, we might not have another chance for a while."

"If it turns out to be very bad, we might not have a chance to get down for a while," Cloud retorted. Visions of them being stranded at the lodge with a bunch of crooks danced through his mind.

"I believe the weather report called for only scattered snow showers," Dalton volunteered. "Though the mountains would still get more, of course."

Sephiroth reached for his laptop, pulling it onto his lap as he lifted the lid. After booting it up, he opened the map program that Jenova Corp had been designing. Now would be a good time to test its accuracy. He typed in Diamond Rose Lodge and pressed Enter.

Cloud leaned over the top of Sephiroth's seat, watching the results--or the lack thereof. "Nothing's coming up," he frowned.

Sephiroth looked at the screen in annoyance. "In case it's a glitch with our program, I'll have to try another," he said.

But none of the programs netted results, nor did the Yellow Pages. The Diamond Rose Lodge was unlisted.

"That woman probably knows where it is," Azazel said. "That Linda person."

Cloud nodded. "Let's drive over there," he suggested. "Maybe Zack and Angeal have had some luck."

Sephiroth set the laptop aside, shutting it down before turning his attention to the car. Placing the key in the ignition, he turned it. As the engine came to life, he reached up to pull down the seatbelt.

Cloud looked to Vincent. "Do you want to come?" he asked.

"I have an early shift tomorrow," Vincent replied. "I should be getting back. But I'll come with you." He reached for the door handle. "In my own car."

"Okay," Cloud said. "It shouldn't be too hard to follow us. Ours is probably the only limo on the streets this late."

"Probably." Opening the door, Vincent began to climb out. Once on the sidewalk, he looked back at Cloud.

"When I saw Vivalene, she was wearing a sling," he said. "She must have found a crooked doctor to treat her shoulder."

"Then that's something to look into," Cloud said.

Vincent nodded, shutting the door and going to where he had his own car. When Sephiroth saw him drive over to the limousine, he pulled out of the parking lot and towards the exit. Vincent followed.

He had noticed along the way that G's car was gone. If he lived at this hotel, Vincent had to wonder if he would come back at all. Maybe he would vanish just as Vivalene had done.

* * *

In the meantime, Zack and Angeal had arrived at Linda's home, which seemed to be a peaceful house on a peaceful middle-class street. The walk was neatly shoveled, and from the overall appearance of the house--and the yard, even though it was half-buried under snow--Linda was very conscientious about keeping her property in order.

But despite the late hour, things inside the house were not quite so peaceful.

"What were you thinking, losing the paper like that?! Couldn't you have been more careful?"

"Oh, so you've never accidentally dropped something?!"

"Not something that important! At least one of those businessmen saw it. Shouldn't you be more concerned than you are?"

"What can they do? They don't know what it means!"

Zack winced at the sounds of the argument. Was it his imagination or were the windows rattling?

"Isn't that Dave in there yelling at her?" he said as he reached to open the car door.

"I think so," Angeal frowned. "I can't tell for certain." He stepped out onto the pavement.

Zack hopped out as well. "They oughtta be more careful," he said. "Who knows how many people can hear them!"

"Including 'those businessmen,'" Angeal commented as they went up the ice-free walk.

"Maybe they heard us coming," Zack said, jogging up the steps. "Things've calmed down in there."

As he was lifting his fist to knock, the door flew open. Dave stood in the lighted doorway, his expression a storm cloud.

"Here they are now!" he ranted, still speaking to Linda.

"Just two of 'them,'" Zack retorted, crossing his arms.

Angeal came up behind him. "We couldn't help but overhear what you were saying," he said. "We came to talk to Linda about Mr. Latham and Del Vinci. Do those names mean anything to either of you?"

It was obvious that they did. Dave shot daggers at both newcomers with his eyes. "Did Thorton tell you about that?" he snapped.

"No," Zack said, annoyed with the man's attitude, "Mr. Latham told a friend of ours."

Linda stepped into view. "It's alright, Dave," she sighed. "Let them come in. They know this much." She studied Zack. "I don't think they're like Del Vinci's business people. At least this one isn't."

"Well, thanks," Zack said. "We just want to get Jessie back safe and get this smuggling business stopped. That's all."

Dave snorted, but at Linda's look he sighed and unlocked the storm door. Zack grabbed the handle, pulling it open as he stepped inside. Angeal followed him, quietly shutting the door behind him instead of letting it bang closed. As they walked further into the living room, Dave hauled the wooden door shut behind them, locking both the main lock and the deadbolt.

Linda produced the crumpled note from her fist, holding it out so that Zack and Angeal could see it. "'The diamond rose glass will have to wait,'" she said with a rueful half-smile.

"So what does it mean?!" Zack exclaimed.

"It's a code," Linda said. "Carol took down the message and stuck it on the wall downstairs at Mr. Thorton's. It means to hold off on the investigation for a while."

"But why 'diamond rose glass'?" Zack frowned.

"For Diamond Rose Lodge, a local retreat," Dave grunted. "Del Vinci reportedly goes there a lot. We've been wondering if he secretly owns it."

"But wouldn't 'Diamond Rose' be a dead giveaway if any of your enemies saw the note?" Angeal said. "I can't imagine it wouldn't make them suspicious."

"I worried about that very thing," Linda said, turning and walking to the cream-colored couches, "but I decided I could get away with it. Please, sit down," she said with a vague gesture.

Zack followed, sinking into the nearest couch. Angeal sat next to him. Linda and Dave took the opposite couch.

"There actually are diamond rose glasses," Linda said, leaning forward and clasping her hands. "I was lying when I said I hadn't heard of them. But they're very rare and I haven't seen them up close and personal."

"So what are they?" Zack wanted to know.

"My great-grandfather invented them," she said. "They, and others, were custom-made for high-paying customers. He made glasswares, you see, and a lot of people still know about him around here." She leaned back. "Anyway, one of his frequent customers was eccentric. He wanted rose-colored goblets studded with diamonds. So my great-grandfather made a set of eight. The customer kept them for years and displayed them with pride, drinking out of a different one each day. But several years later, they were lost in a fire. Or so the story goes. Great-grandfather suspected that the servant had run off with them, since he disappeared that day. Neither were ever seen again."

Zack whistled. "Those things'd be worth a pretty penny, especially if real diamonds were used," he said.

Linda nodded. "I've always wanted to find them. I first heard about Diamond Rose Lodge because of them, and foolishly, I guess, I hoped that maybe the glasses had ended up there and were on display. So once I went up there to look around. It's in the canyons above the city, overlooking a waterfall. It's a really beautiful place."

Zack blinked. "No kidding," he said, exchanging a look with Angeal. That sounded familiar. Maybe the lodge was located right near the cliff where he and Dalton had fallen.

"I didn't find the glasses," Linda said, "but I saw someone whom I thought was Del Vinci. This was before the scandal, and I tried to find him, but I never could see him again. When I casually mentioned the incident to one of the staff, she said that I probably did see him because it was a favorite place for him to come."

"And Linda remembered that after the scandal," Dave spoke. "When Del Vinci disappeared and she started trying to find him, I found out about her investigation."

"Dave insisted on helping," Linda said. "He didn't think I should be doing it all alone. So we take turns driving up to the lodge now and then for day trips, hoping to catch a glimpse of Del Vinci. No luck so far." She frowned.

"Anyway," she continued, "'diamond rose glass' ended up being used as a code because of the real glasses. It was so obvious, I thought it just might work. Del Vinci knows about my great-grandfather's glasswares.

"I was going to drive up to the lodge today, but Dave called and left the message with Carol telling me not to go because it's been snowing off and on in the mountains all day. They're supposed to get more overnight."

"I guess anyone up there'll be snowed in, then," Zack said.

"I'm sure." Linda nodded.

"I dunno if Del Vinci could be up there or not," Zack frowned. "He's sure been busy tonight, at any rate." With that, he and Angeal took turns explaining about Oliver and Del Vinci's manor. Linda listened, stunned by the tale. Dave crossed his arms and scowled.

"Do you know if Del Vinci has a pet bird?" Angeal presently asked.

"I didn't know he did," Linda blinked. "So the theory is that he's somehow using these birds in his crimes because of the different odd sounds they mimic?"

"Something like that," Angeal said.

"What about Oliver?" Zack queried. "Do you know anything about him?"

She shook her head. "Del Vinci uses children in a lot of his schemes," she said. "At least that's how the evidence points. He likes to use them against people he has problems with, or try to manipulate them and make them do things he wants, such as stealing for him." The bitterness and anger were rising in her voice.

"That's sick!" Zack said in indignation.

Angeal nodded. "Oliver said that Del Vinci's men killed his family and that Del Vinci thinks Oliver knows where a family fortune is hidden," he reported.

"That sounds like him," Dave frowned, "only I wonder if he could have kept at least one other family member alive and in another location, as backup or leverage."

"That's what Seph wondered!" Zack exclaimed. Sephiroth had finally revealed his idea after they had left the kids back at home and right before they had split into two groups. The others had agreed it was possible, and Zack hoped it was. Then Oliver would not have to be all alone or put into a foster home.

"Did you ask him how many are in his family?" Dave asked.

Zack shook his head. "He was pretty young when they were killed," he said. "I didn't wanna bring up a lot of painful memories for him. But now that there's this idea, I'm planning to ask him all about his family when we get back. Or in the morning," he amended with a sheepish look at the clock.

"Good," Dave said. "I'm thinking this kid must be a key to this entire situation."

"Oliver also mentioned a girl named Julieanna," Angeal said. "Del Vinci's men seemed to be very interested in her whereabouts."

Linda looked thunderstruck. "Julieanna?" she repeated, her face draining of color. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Zack said in confusion. "Why?"

"That's the name of Jessie's sister," Dave explained. "The one that disappeared after the accident."

Zack's mouth dropped open. "No kidding!" he breathed.

Though also surprised, Angeal shook his head. "It could be a coincidence," he said.

"It could," Zack said, "but I bet it isn't!" He straightened, his eyes filled with a familiar fire and determination. "I bet she's alive and Del Vinci wanted her for some reason, too. And now she's on the run from him!"

"Would Del Vinci have any reason to go after the Thorton family?" Angeal asked.

"I don't know," Linda said, shaking her head. "I haven't heard about anything like that, and I've known them for years. But with someone like Del Vinci, it's always possible."

"The weird thing about it is, Oliver acts like he's hiding something," Zack said. "Seph thinks maybe he knows where Julieanna is and won't say. But we can't figure out why he won't just tell us so we could help her! He says he doesn't even know her!"

"I'd like to question that kid myself," Dave growled. From his expression and tone of voice, he was quite annoyed with what he was hearing of Oliver's behavior and would not put up with it.

Linda gave him a Look. "The poor thing is probably traumatized by threats Del Vinci has made," she said. "You can't be too hard on him, especially if he's been living with that wretch for years."

Zack tried to steer them back to the subject. "When we were poking around in Del Vinci's place, we also found a bedroom," he said. "It looked like a girl's room, so maybe it was even Julieanna's before she disappeared."

Angeal nodded. "That's where the bird was found, too," he said. "It was on the windowsill."

"Then maybe it was her bird and not Del Vinci's," Dave suggested.

Zack's eyes widened. "Hey, yeah!" he cried. "But why was it just left there if she ran away?"

"She could've had no choice," Dave said. "When it mimics everything, she might have had a hard time sneaking off with it in tow."

"But at least she could've put it back in its cage or something," Zack said. "Leaving it out seems so irresponsible."

"Most kids are," Dave grumbled.

"Not all of them," Linda said, her voice firm. "The explanation could be entirely different. I bet Oliver helped Julieanna escape and then got away himself. They could have been chased and were forced to leave the bird. Maybe Oliver was even going to bring the bird for Julieanna, but wasn't able to."

"And he probably does know where she is," Zack moaned. "If only he'd say!"

"Did you ask him about the bird?" Dave asked.

"He asked on his own if the bird was alright when I said I'd found it in the windowsill," Angeal said. "I told him it was and asked him if he knew about it. He shrugged and said it had been around the house."

"He gives these really vague answers," Zack said. "It really bugs Seph, and I'm not too happy about it, either. But I still don't think he's part of Del Vinci's racket."

He frowned, looking to Linda. "What kind of threats do you think Del Vinci would make on him and Julieanna?" he asked, thinking back to a comment she had made moments earlier.

She shook her head. "Oh, he'd say anything," she said, bitter again. "He'd threaten death and torture, being very graphic about his descriptions of both. I've heard more than one tale from people who have been captured by him at one time or another. There aren't very many who get away."

"Can't all those people testify against the creep?!" Zack exclaimed.

"It's his word against theirs," Linda sighed. "He wriggles out of everything. We need concrete proof to catch him."

Zack ran a hand through his hair, slumping back into the couch. "Hey," he said, "if everything's connected, do you think Del Vinci knows where Jessie is?"

"I bet he does," Linda said.

"Would he keep her alive?" Angeal asked, his eyes narrowing.

Linda looked overwhelmed. "I don't know," she said. "He might for a while, if he does have some interest in the Thorton family. Otherwise . . ." She let the sentence hang in the air, unfinished.

"What if he's even keeping her at the lodge?!" Zack sat up straight again. "Maybe that's where we all need to go!"

"But there's the snow," Angeal reminded him.

"We could try, anyway," Zack said. "Maybe there's some report on if the roads are blocked or whatever."

"You could be on to something," Dave admitted. "Maybe we should all go. My van's equipped for this kind of weather."

"Really? Then I say let's go!" Zack grabbed out his phone. "I'll call the others to tell them. They'll want to come too! Maybe they've had some luck catching Vivalene."

Linda stared. "Vivalene?" she repeated. "Mr. Thorton's customer?"

"Yeah!" Zack said as he dialed Cloud's cell number. Seph was probably driving, if they happened to be in the limo right now, so Zack had decided it would be better to call Cloud.

"Apparently she's one of Del Vinci's associates," Angeal said.

"That's not surprising," Dave muttered. "I never liked her."

Zack came to attention as a click came over the phone. "Cloud!" he greeted. "Where are you?"

"Right outside," Cloud answered. "We just pulled up. Did Linda tell you anything?"

"Yeah!" Zack said. "A lot. Hurry up and come in! We've got a lot to talk about and plans to make. We might be heading to some place in the canyons called Diamond Rose Lodge."

A pause. "Do you know where it is?"

"Linda and Dave do!" Zack said. "Come on!"

In a moment footsteps were heard on the porch. Dave got up and crossed to the door, opening it and admitting the other group. The basic events from both sides were recounted and plans were indeed made. Zack was stunned to hear of what had happened at the hotel, both before and after Seph and Cloud's arrival. Vincent had finally relayed some details of the problem with Vivalene.

In light of everything, Sephiroth conceded that they should attempt going to Diamond Rose Lodge. It could be a chance to bring the mystery to a head. And at any rate, it was their best lead. First they would stop at their homes to quickly gather a few items in case they ended up spending the night in the canyons. And perhaps they should try speaking to Oliver again as well. Maybe he would know something about the establishment.

"Do you believe the staff at the lodge might be working with Del Vinci?" Sephiroth inquired as they headed for the door.

"I'd wondered," Linda admitted. "I couldn't say. If they're hiding Jessie there, or if Del Vinci really does own the lodge, then at least some of the staff is probably involved."

"You never know," Zack said. "Maybe they pulled off some crazy thing where they snuck Jessie past all the staff and into a room."

Cloud nodded. "They might keep her bound and gagged all the time," he added.

Dave opened the door, stepping onto the porch and electronically unlocking his van from a distance. "Del Vinci's more the type to let his prisoners run free in some enclosed place," he said, "emphasizing that they're free, but not really."

"Creep," Zack muttered.

* * *

The snow was coming down harder by the time the van was climbing the canyon road. Dave kept the radio on as they went, leaving the volume turned down until it came time for the next weather report. They had agreed that if the road grew too slippery and dangerous, or if they heard a report that the road was going to be closed, they would turn back. They wanted to solve the mystery, but there would not be any sense in getting themselves killed or stranded while trying.

Angeal was mostly silent on the drive, as was Sephiroth. A glance at his old friend let Angeal know that Sephiroth was thinking the same thing. Neither one of them could get the idea out of their minds that it was Genesis whom Vincent had spoken with at the restaurant. And Vincent had at last admitted that it was "G" he had lost when Cloud and the others had found him.

Why was Genesis so intent on staying away from them? Was it because he was guilt-ridden? Or was there another reason? Was he even still angry? After he had rescued Zack, that did not seem likely. At least, they had assumed it was him after Zack had showed the large black feather that had been left on the property of the cabin where he had been held captive. Angeal had been turning the events over and over in his mind every day since Zack had returned.

It pained him. And it was utterly frustrating and agonizing when he seemed to be so close to seeing his childhood friend again and then the opportunity was snatched from him.

Sephiroth was upset by it, too. But he did not feel the same intense agony as Angeal. If Genesis was truly back to himself, then Sephiroth wanted to meet with him again. He had been looking for Genesis, just as Angeal had been doing. But if Genesis did not appear, Sephiroth was likely to handle it better than Angeal would. He and Genesis had severed their bond years earlier, largely because of Genesis's jealousy and hatred towards his old friend. The wound was still there, but it had scabbed. If Sephiroth believed that Genesis did not want to reconcile, he would move on. He had tried to reach out to Genesis in the past. And by looking for him in the present, Sephiroth was showing that he was still willing to try.

Angeal had known Genesis for a lot longer than Sephiroth had known him. They had grown up together at Banora. For years they had talked, explored, and gotten into trouble. Then they had joined SOLDIER and had gotten into even more trouble. The last time they had ever spoken, after they had both deserted, Angeal had determined that he had to fight against everything in the world that threatened it. And that had included Genesis. But instead of being angry at Angeal, Genesis had only seemed to accept that they would have to fight. After all, he had said, it was life mirroring art once again. They would duel as the two friends had dueled in _Loveless._

They had fought for a long time, with each gaining the upper hand for a time. Eventually it had ended in a draw. Exhausted, they had collapsed on the battlefield, staring up at the sky as twilight and then night had arrived. When they had parted, it had been on bittersweet terms. Each had traveled a different road, and each had been forced to accept that it was not likely they would meet again on the same side.

Angeal had never spoke of that battle to anyone, not even Sephiroth. But he thought of it often. Two childhood friends, brought to that end. He hated it. He did not want it to be the end of their story.

He wanted them to meet once again--on the same side.

With a sigh he glanced over at Dalton and Azazel. They were also quiet, staring out at the swirling white. Could they be trusted? Neither Angeal or Sephiroth could forget that it was because of those two that so much chaos had happened nearly a month ago. At any time Dalton could begin to regain his memory and plot to double-cross them. And of course Azazel showed no remorse for having held Zack captive for several days while everyone had panicked fearing he was dead. Azazel was probably proud of his scheme, only regretting that Zack had escaped.

Sephiroth's stare was intense. He did not trust them, and he was letting Angeal know that he should not, either. It was far too risky. And it was not unfair of those who had been unfairly hurt time and again to feel that way. Anyway, Dalton and Azazel no doubt did not trust their necessary allies.

Sephiroth had to wonder whether Dalton even trusted Azazel. He did not remember the other man, and he would have no way of knowing that what Azazel said was the truth. Dalton put on a good act of being calm and taking everything in stride, but Sephiroth had noticed how he had been shooting glances at Azazel. Azazel seemed to take no stock in it if he was aware of it.

The silver-haired man sighed as he leaned back in the seat. When they had returned home to collect their belongings, Oliver had finally met Denzel and had consented to wearing a spare pair of pajamas. He had been asleep in one of the guest rooms. Aerith had insisted that he not be disturbed after the long and trying day. Sephiroth had felt that it was important enough to warrant an awakening, but the boy had been so deeply in slumber that Sephiroth had only received a confused mumble to his question about Diamond Rose Lodge. So in irritation he had decided to let the matter go and stick with the plan of driving up to the retreat.

The van swerved without warning, sending everyone veering to the right. Those next to the doors knocked into them. Zack cried out in surprise.

"What is it?!" he exclaimed. "A big ice patch?"

"It is," Linda said with a frown. "There's quite a few up this way." She reached to turn up the radio.

_"And what was predicted to be scattered snow showers has turned into more of a regular snowstorm!"_ the announcer intoned. _"It's not strong enough to be a blizzard down in the city, but up in the canyons the winds have really been picking up speed. Officials have been discussing whether or not to close the canyon road during the storm."_

"It doesn't look so good up there," Zack frowned. "I can't see much of anything just ahead." In fact, he really could not see much of anything where they were, either. If it was only a full-fledged blizzard ahead of their position, it was quickly rushing to meet them. And then they would have to stop and wait for it, which none of them wanted to do.

"I don't think it's going to be possible to get through tonight," Dave said. "I'm going to turn around the next chance I get. I've been thinking I needed to ever since we came around that last bend."

"If the storm passes tomorrow and the road is blocked by snow and ice, some of us can come up here with a helicopter if necessary," Sephiroth said.

"Whatever it takes to get in," Linda said. She rubbed her eyes. "If they are holding Jessie at the lodge, I guess they probably wouldn't kill her tonight."

"I don't think so," Sephiroth agreed. "Not unless all of the staff is involved. Even then, it would be a risk that I doubt they would want to take at the moment. There would likely be guests who would know nothing of it. And the storm might be too strong for them to even take the body very far."

Dave began to slow down as they neared the next bend. With care he steered the van's position around until it pointed the way they had come. Then he eased his foot on the accelerator, allowing just enough gas to move forward.

"Watch out for the big ice patch," Zack said, peering out the window as he searched for it himself.

The van moved down the path without incident. But something did not feel right. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, squinting through the increasing flurries at the scenery. He did not recall there being such a large pine tree on the way up. And the cluster of evergreen trees to the left was new as well.

"Are you going the right way?" he asked, his voice a bit harsh. If Dave had somehow turned onto another path, they could be going deeper into the canyon instead of leaving it. And that could be very dangerous under the circumstances.

"There weren't two paths," Dave retorted. "This has to be right."

"I don't know. . . ." Linda looked worried. "It doesn't feel right to me, either. And where's the patch of ice from before?"

"Yeah!" Zack said. "We should've passed it by now. The thing stretched almost all the way across the road! We were just lucky we only grazed the end of it."

"There's a small one up there," Cloud said, seeing the glint from the headlights.

Dave maneuvered around it, the van veering sharply to the right as he did. "This curve wasn't on the other path," he grumbled.

An angry flurry of wind and snow shot out of the darkness, pelting the hood and the windshield. Startled, and suddenly unable to see, Dave sent the van to the left. The wheels rolled over a patch of ice, spinning out of control as they took the vehicle with it. Zack yelped in surprise and shock, gripping the top of the seat in front of him as the van made one, then two ungraceful ballet whirls. Dave slammed on the brakes, desperation on his features.

At last the van came to a halt at the side of the road. Everyone slumped against their seats, staring at the white all around them. Linda reached to switch on the windshield wipers.

"It looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while," she said. "The storm's too strong."

"It could last for hours!" Zack protested. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is everyone okay?!" he exclaimed, looking to the others around him.

"We're fine," Cloud said.

"A bit shaken, but otherwise quite well," Dalton said in a dry tone as he pushed up his wandering glasses.

Sephiroth was squinting out the window. "There's a light up there," he announced, pointing across the way to a glow on a hill.

Zack perked up, undoing his seatbelt to lean over further. "That's not the lodge, is it?" he wondered.

"It shouldn't be," Linda said. "It's supposed to be deeper in than this."

"It could be a ranger station," Angeal suggested.

Sephiroth nodded. "Some of us should investigate." He undid his seatbelt as well, moving to open the door. As he did, a flashlight beamed on the glass and metal.

"Are you folks okay?" a concerned voice asked.

From where he was still sitting, Sephiroth looked up at a man in a ranger's uniform. "We're fine," he grunted, echoing Cloud's statement from a moment ago.

"The blizzard caught up with us!" Zack announced, looking out past Seph.

"Well, you're all out mighty late on a winter's night," the ranger said. "I was checking the roads to make sure there were no accidents and I saw your van do a spin."

Sephiroth ignored the intended query. He did not really want to explain their purpose for being here. "Is that your station?" he asked, nodding towards the light.

"It is," was the reply. "And it would be a lot safer for all of you to wait out the storm in there. It could go on for a while."

Zack glanced around at the others in the van. "We'll take you up on that!" he said, seeing the affirmative nods.

Vincent leaned back, crossing his arms. "I guess this means I won't be making it to work in the morning," he grunted.


	12. The Lodge

**Notes: The story lives! I will finish it! Right now I must thank Crystal Rose for the inspiration of trying to finish chapter 12 as my birthday giftfic for Lisa. Happy birthday, Lisa! And thanks to Lisa, Kaze, and Crystal Rose for plot help in general!**

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* * *

  
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**Chapter Twelve**

It was a welcome relief to enter the ranger station several minutes later, after the hike up the hill in the furious winds. The warm air reached out in greeting, hitting their faces as they stepped inside and set down their luggage.

Zack snickered. "Oh wow, Seph, you look like a snowman," he said.

Sephiroth reached behind himself without a word, brushing the collected snowflakes out of his hair. Just in the few short minutes it had taken to get here, the blizzard had poured its fury on them all.

"It's a snowpeople village," Cloud remarked, glancing to everyone else.

The ranger looked apologetic as he pulled the door shut. In the bright light it was easy to see his rugged features and well-built form. "If you want to crash here for the night, I'm afraid I've only got a couple of cots," he said. "One of them's in another room. But I might have enough bedrolls for the rest of you."

"That's fine!" Zack chirped. "At least we'll be in here and not out there."

"I'll take the cot in the other room," Linda said. "If that's alright."

The older man nodded. "Just fine. My name is Archer, by the way," he said. "I'm still pretty surprised to have found all of you. Quite a party of people to be in the canyons this late at night. You look like a sensible bunch, too. Can't imagine all of you came here because of the legends."

"Legends?" Cloud frowned.

"Sure, about the area around that Diamond Rose Lodge," Archer volunteered. "There's all kinds of crazy talk about spooks." He snorted in derision. "I can hardly believe grown people would say such things."

"You don't believe in ghosts, sir?" Dalton said, his tone smooth.

Sephiroth gave him a warning look. This was not a good time for Gunju to play a prank.

Archer shrugged. "Oh, maybe they exist, but they're nothing to get worked up over," he said. "They're just dead people."

"What exactly are the nature of these rumors?" Sephiroth asked.

"Not much more than people seeing weird whitish figures lurking around the lodge's property," Archer said. "The bystanders come running back screaming and won't go anywhere near the place."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Probably just people covered in snow, like us," he muttered.

"What kind of place is it, anyway?" Zack blinked. "Is it a private lodge?"

"Anyone can try to get a room there," Archer said, "but they don't always get one. The staff claims the lodge is usually booked solid. Whether it's true or not, I don't know."

Linda frowned. "I don't remember hearing any rumors about ghosts," she said. "I come out to the lodge every now and then. So does Dave here."

"When was the last time?" Archer asked.

"Two weeks ago," Dave said.

"Well, that's about when the rumors started," was the reply. "I guess the word didn't make it down to the city."

"The people who saw the 'ghosts' probably didn't want everyone to think they were nuts," Cloud said.

"How far away is the lodge from here?" Sephiroth wanted to know.

"Maybe five miles east," Archer frowned. "Do you have some other reason for going up there?"

"Well, we're sure not going to play Ghostbusters," Zack quipped. Should they should tell the ranger the truth? He was surely trustworthy. But on the other hand, they wanted as few people as possible in on this until they had a chance to look at the lodge. Maybe it would be better to say nothing.

"Hey, is there a working phone up here?" he asked, changing the subject. "I should call back home and let my girlfriend know what's up. Cloud needs to call, too."

Archer nodded. "There's one right over here," he directed, walking over to a desk. "It should be working." He picked up the receiver, listening for only a brief moment. "You're good to go," he said.

"Great!" Zack grinned, hurrying over to it. He dialed rapidly, then waited while it rang, drumming his fingers on the desk. They were almost certainly still awake, waiting to hear the news about the outcome of the drive. Especially if they had heard about the snowstorm. . . .

A click. "Hello?" came Aerith's voice.

Zack grinned, happy to hear his beloved. "Hey!" he greeted. "It's your Zack."

"My Zack?" Aerith returned playfully. "I didn't realize I owned you."

"Sure you do!" Zack returned. "You're the only girl who's ever taken my heart, and you've never given it back! Course, I don't want it back."

He could not see Aerith's smile, but he could hear it as she spoke. "Well good, because I don't want to give it back," she said. "Are you at the lodge?"

"Nope," Zack admitted, getting down to business. "We were gonna turn back, but we ended up taking a wrong road and we got way out by a ranger station. So we're spending the night here. The snow's too bad to try to get back down tonight. In the morning we're heading to the lodge, even if we have to take a helicopter!"

"Well, just be careful," Aerith said.

"Sure!" Zack said. "Is everything okay there?"

"Yes," she told him. "The kids are still asleep. The security guards haven't seen anyone on the property."

"Good deal," Zack said, feeling relieved.

"Is Cloud there?" Aerith asked then. "Tifa would like to talk to him."

"Oh sure," Zack said. "I'll talk to you later, Aerith. Love ya."

Aerith's voice was quieter when she responded. "I love you too, Zack Fair," she said. "And don't you forget it."

Zack could sense the underlying concern, and the remnants of old scars, in her voice. She was worried about what would happen to them---and him---on this trip. She wished she could be there. And she was likely remembering the same thing he was---that fateful call when he was at Nibelheim. . . .

He shook the dark thoughts from his mind. They were coming home this time. Tragedy would not be repeated here! "Of course," he said, sounding cheery. "I never could."

He glanced over his shoulder, only to discover Cloud right there. "Telephone!" he said in a grand tone.

"Thanks," Cloud said, taking it.

Zack walked away from the desk, stretching his arms above his head. "Man," he said, "I could probably fall asleep on a sharp rock."

"I wouldn't recommend it," Sephiroth grunted.

But then he stiffened. Had he just heard the door creak open? He whirled, turning to look. No one was there and the door was shut . . . yet there were snowy footprints on the floor. Snowy footprints that trailed over to a very leafy potted plant.

Zack was looking at them too, his eyes wide and confused. Who else could be here?

"It's obvious that you're here," Sephiroth said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You might as well come out."

With a resigned sigh, a shivering form rose from behind the plant. Zack's mouth dropped open.

"Oliver?!" he cried. "The heck?!"

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. "Did you come up in the van?" he asked.

The boy sighed, looking down at the floor. "Yeah," he admitted. "After you woke me up and tried to ask me about the lodge, I didn't go back to sleep. I woke up more and thought about it. And . . . I knew I had to come along. So I sneaked out of the house and climbed in the van with all the suitcases. Nobody noticed."

Everyone else in the room was staring now too. Cloud, who was just hanging up with Tifa, frowned.

"Why?" he wanted to know. "You escaped from Del Vinci and you're trying to get back where he might be?" Oliver had wanted to come with them earlier too, when they had investigated that house of Del Vinci's. That was a little more understandable; he could have wanted to point certain things out that he hoped would lead to the creep's arrest. But this development stymied Cloud.

Oliver shrugged, still looking at his shoes.

Sephiroth stepped closer to him. "All of us are aware that you haven't been entirely honest," he said. "Whatever you know is very likely important to our investigation. And it could possibly help you, as well."

". . . I'm just worried about the people they might be holding up there," Oliver said, a defensive tone slipping into his voice as he looked up.

"We're gonna save them," Zack said. "Jessie Thorton and whoever else."

"Do you know if there's anyone else?" Sephiroth asked. "Such as Julieanna?"

"She's not there," Oliver said. "But if Del Vinci's really at the lodge, and he owns it or something, then there's probably lots of other people there. It's out of the way and stuff."

Zack sighed. "Well, we sure can't let you come to the lodge with us," he said. "But we can't get you back down, either. Looks like you'll be staying here tonight." He grabbed for the phone. "I'd better let Aerith know before she or Tifa find out you're not in bed like you're supposed to be!"

"And we'll have to tell the ranger about you," Cloud added.

"We'll say you stowed away in the van, but not mention the whole reason why," Zack said. "Maybe we can say that you weren't supposed to leave home."

Oliver sighed too, but he did not protest.

Sephiroth fixed him with a long look. Then he turned away to set up his bedroll.

****

The night passed in a fairly peaceful manner. While the wind howled outside and snow continued to gather in drifts, inside everyone was snug and warm. In spite of the last burst of excitement before bed, Zack burrowed into the bedroll and did not wake up until the ranger was fixing breakfast in the morning.

"Morning," Cloud greeted when Zack at last rolled over and sat up, blinking at the light.

Zack yawned. "Morning!" he chirped through the intake of oxygen. "What's the scoop?"

"Snow's stopped," Cloud said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, "but the roads aren't cleared. Archer says he isn't sure how long it will take for trucks to get up this far. Sephiroth doesn't plan to wait. He's already sent for a helicopter to come get us after breakfast. We'll have to leave Oliver here at the station while we go up to the lodge."

"I guess he's not happy about that," Zack said.

Cloud shook his head. "He wants to come along. I think he wants to make sure he's there to see Del Vinci get caught."

"Could be," Zack said. "I could understand that.

"Is there even any place for the helicopter to land?" he wondered, running a hand through his hair.

"I think we'll just be going up the rope ladder," Cloud said. "Archer was worried about there not being a good place for it to land, too."

Zack threw back the top of the bedroll, climbing out and stretching as he began to stand. A quick look at the other bedrolls told him everyone else was awake. "What time is it?" he exclaimed.

"It's not that late, considering when we got in," Cloud shrugged. "It's about nine-thirty or ten. Vincent had to call the hospital earlier to say he wouldn't be coming in till later. He was able to trade shifts with another doctor."

"Man, I hope he gets back for that one," Zack said. "Who knows what'll happen when we get to the lodge!"

Cloud nodded. "He doesn't seem too worried," he said. "I think it's the equivalent of a graveyard shift. I don't know what they call it at a hospital."

Zack was half-listening. By now the food was ready and his stomach was very aware of it. He hurried to the kitchenette, peeking in at the scene. Cloud smirked in amusement.

****

The helicopter arrived just as they were finishing breakfast. Archer started at the loud noise, peering out the window just in time to see the rope ladder descend.

"Your ride's here," he announced. "But won't this give you a big entrance at the lodge? You probably don't want anything to make you look conspicuous."

"We'll get out a short distance from the lodge and then walk the rest of the way," Sephiroth replied as he stood. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Zack nodded, leaping to his feet. "The food's great!" he chirped.

Archer nodded as well, pleased by the compliment. "Let me know if you blow the case on the ghost rumors," he said.

"Who knows," Cloud remarked in sarcasm. "Maybe we'll meet them."

"You'll probably meet worse than that," Oliver muttered, crossing his arms at the table.

Zack laid a hand on the kid's shoulder as he walked past. He could sympathize with Oliver wanting to be there when they caught Del Vinci, but of course they could not allow it. He just had to hope Oliver would stay here and not sneak away to follow them to the lodge.

"We'll be back to get Oliver when we're done," he said to Archer, who nodded.

"He'll stay safe and sound," the ranger said. "But I might have to take him on patrol with me."

Now Oliver perked up. "Really?!" he exclaimed.

Zack grinned. "Sounds good," he said. "Maybe Oliver won't feel so bad on missing out on the ghosts after all."

As they headed out the door, a pancake randomly began moving off the stack in the center of the table. Seeing it out of the corner of his eye, Archer turned to look and then stared in disbelief. "Hey . . . !" he exclaimed.

Azazel gave a withering look to the thin air. "Gunju . . ." he said in a warning tone.

The pancake landed in his hand.

"What _was_ that?" Archer frowned. "Telekinesis?"

"No," Azazel said, taking the pancake with him to the door. "A ghost."

****

In the helicopter it did not take long to travel the remaining miles to the lodge's general area. The building that came into view was strikingly similar to the one featured on the postcard of Vivalene's. Even from a distance, the extensive grounds surrounding the resort were quite visible. Zack regarded the sight in awe.

"Man, I bet this place looks amazing at Christmastime!" he exclaimed.

Sephiroth grunted, his mind occupied as he looked for a place to get out. He did not want the helicopter to get so close that those in the lodge would hear it. If they realized that Sephiroth and the others were that determined to get there, they might realize that something was suspicious. Of course, if they recognized the Jenova Corp and Fragmented Triangle crews, they would realize it anyway.

"That doesn't look like a hard path to try," Zack said, leaning forward to peer out the front window. There was more than one hill to go up, but the hills were part of the snowed-over road's path. It should not be anything like going up a jagged, rocky route.

Sephiroth nodded. "We'll get out here," he said to the pilot.

The other man nodded as well. "Alright, sir," he said. "Good luck."

Again the rope ladder was lowered. Everyone climbed out, landing on the frozen road on their feet. On the ground the lodge was not visible, but they knew where it was located. They just had to walk straight ahead for a while.

"What'll we say when we get there?" Zack wondered. "It'll look weird to turn up right after a snowstorm, when the roads aren't even clear."

"We can mention being on our way last night when the blizzard stopped us," Sephiroth said. "And probably about the ranger station. Just use common sense on what not to say."

"Yes, sir!" Zack said with a mock salute.

"Why do you suppose there are these rumors of ghosts?" Dalton mused.

"That suggests to me that the entire lodge staff could be involved," Sephiroth said, "or at least almost certainly some of them. Whoever is making it look like there's a ghost must want to scare people away from the lodge."

"But the only people to scare away would be a few passers-by," Azazel said.

"And certain guests at the lodge," Sephiroth said.

"So they'd scare away their own business?" Cloud said, looking incredulous.

"If they're involved in something underhanded, that is likely worth more to them than a few paying lodge guests," Sephiroth said. "However, it might depend on how greedy they are."

"Couldn't some of the guests be messing around on their own?" Cloud wondered.

"That's always possible," Sephiroth said, "but considering the nature of the operation, it isn't likely. There's the random sweepstakes, not to mention the chance that Jessie Thorton is being held there. And it could be a location where the smugglers are keeping their goods. Those are all angles more likely to be true if at least some of the staff is involved."

"So we might find some of our stuff there?" Zack said, his eyes widening.

Sephiroth nodded. "We might," he said.

"We never even found out if the police found our stuff that was supposed to be at Del Vinci's place," Zack remembered.

"The person who moved it could have taken it away altogether," Sephiroth said in irritation. "We don't know why that guard was killed, either."

"Perhaps the person who concealed your belongings was part of Vivalene's gang and not Del Vinci's?" Dalton suggested. "That would explain the guard's death."

"Except that we decided our crates were taken again to delay us," Sephiroth said, "and we know it was Del Vinci's men who abducted Marlene and Oliver."

By now the grounds of the lodge were coming into view. Cold wrought-iron gates surrounded the property, which was fully covered in numerous drifts of pure white snow. More of the powder was on the gates and on the pine trees that populated the grounds.

"This place is a winter wonderland!" Zack chirped. "Man, it's awful to think of it being used by a bunch of crooks."

"It happens," Sephiroth grunted.

Dalton frowned as they drew closer. "Well, they are determined to be exclusive," he noted. "The gates are locked. And they have an intercom." He gestured to a square box by the gate. The container bore a button and a speaker. He reached over, pressing the red button.

Static crackled over the loudspeaker. "Diamond Rose Lodge," a gruff voice said. "What is your business?"

"Ah, yes," Dalton said. "We have a party here of eight . . ."

"Nine," Gunju purred.

". . . Who wish for lodgings in your establishment," Dalton said, giving Gunju a warning look. Linda and Dave still did not know of his existence, and Dalton would just as soon keep it that way.

There was a short silence. "How did you get here in this storm?"

"We were coming last night," Sephiroth grunted, not willing to let Dalton do all the talking. "The blizzard stopped us."

"The roads still aren't clear," the guard said. It was hard to tell whether he believed them or not, though he did not sound congenial at all.

"We started walking as soon as we could," Sephiroth said. "Do you have available rooms?"

Another pause. "Come in," the guard said. The heavy gates began to creak open, pushing the snow ahead of them as they moved inward.

Zack stretched. "Well, time to go in and see what it's like," he chirped. _And hopefully find Jessie,_ he added to himself. _Alive. . . ._

Together they trooped through the gates and onto the still-uncleared driveway. The snow was less deep than it had been on the path over the hills, but they had been able to manage going through even the most deep parts due to the snowshoes that the ranger had provided for them. Or they were, as long as they were able to figure out how to walk using the awkward devices.

"My boots would be soaked through without these things!" Zack exclaimed as he stumbled. "But I can't stand 'em. Maybe I'd better start wearing really long boots like Seph!" He fell sideways, instinctively bringing out his hands to balance himself as the snowshoes became entangled with each other.

Sephiroth grunted, reaching to steady Zack. "They're not your style," he said. His feet and legs were dry, thanks to the snowshoes and his thigh-length boots, but the snow had whipped through his hair---much to his annoyance.

"True," Zack agreed as he caught his balance.

As they stepped onto the wrap-around, roofed porch, Zack glanced around in approval. "Nice place," he said. "I could get used to this."

"There shouldn't be time to get used to it," Sephiroth pointed out. "We won't be able to stay long before they'll be on to us. In fact, they might be suspicious of us right now."

Without warning the double doors at the front entrance began to open.

"Automatic doors up here?" Dalton mused, raising an eyebrow.

Azazel looked put-out. "Gunju went ahead of us," he said.

Sephiroth grunted in irritation. Azazel could not seem to do anything to rein in his brother. Hopefully that would not be their downfall.

They stepped into a tiled utility room, where the other guests' snowshoes and boots had been lined up on one side of the door. Rows of coats were on the opposite side. Zack did a quick count of the number.

"Man," he commented, "either they've got coats to spare or there's a lot of people here!"

"There's accommodations for many guests," Linda said.

"Yeah, I guess!" Zack exclaimed. He bent down, fumbling with the straps of the snowshoes until they came loose. Then, kicking them aside, he turned to look out at the lobby through the utility room's inner doorway. With appreciation he stared at the rustic, homey decor and the warm fireplace roaring to the right. Soft couches and chairs were in the same nook, along with an oak end table and several over-sized books.

"Now that's where I want to stretch out!" Zack declared, pulling off his gloves.

"It only looks inviting when other people aren't around," Sephiroth grunted. Sharing the space with strangers would take away the tranquility.

Zack gave him a mournful look. "Aw, Seph," he protested. "Meeting other people is fun!"

Sephiroth gave him a bored look in return. "Even if all of them are suspects in a kidnapping and smuggling case?"

Zack sighed. "Point taken."

Shaking his head, Zack turned to inspect the rest of the lobby. A red-carpeted staircase was to the left, with the front desk right next to it at the bottom. A clerk looked up, meeting Zack's eyes as the brunet finally took note of the desk.

"You're the party that came through the snow, I take it?" he said, giving no indication that he knew who Zack was. Zack did not recognize him, either.

"That's right!" Zack chirped, strolling into the carpeted room. The others followed behind, having removed their snowshoes as well.

"We would like accommodations for at least one night's stay," Dalton said, "and perhaps longer, depending on the weather."

The clerk pulled out a thick register, setting it on the desk. "There are available rooms on both the second and third floors," he said. "Do you have a preference?"

"The second floor," Sephiroth said. If there was any trouble, it would be better to be as close to the ground floor as possible, for an easier escape.

The clerk nodded, writing something in the ledger. Then he turned the heavy book to face Sephiroth and the others.

"You must have wanted to come here very badly, to brave all this snow," the middle-aged man said as Sephiroth took a pen and signed his name.

"We've heard a lot of good things about this place," Zack said. "And we figured we needed a little break from our crazy lives, so what better place to come to?" He gave a wild gesture, nearly knocking the pen out of Seph's hand as Seph tried to hand it to him. With a sheepish grin he took it, scrawling his name before passing the pen to Cloud.

"Some of you may have to share rooms," the clerk said, watching as all of the others signed the ledger. Still he did not behave as though he was suspicious of any of them. "That is, if all of you want to be on the second floor."

"That's cool," Zack said.

Instead of electronic card keys, they were given standard metal keys for six rooms on the second floor. Sephiroth and Zack agreed to share a room, as did Cloud and Angeal, and Dalton and Azazel, while the rest would have rooms to themselves. Bellboys were summoned to carry their luggage up the stairs. The guests followed, glancing around the rustic decor as they went.

"It does have a certain Old West flair," Dalton mused, studying a picture of some of the early settlers in the area. "Just as I imagined."

Azazel shrugged, not caring one way or another. He was too involved in keeping track of his brother, especially as they arrived on the second floor. Gunju was peering into each room they walked by, checking to see who the occupants were and what they were doing. When the bellboys stopped, he stopped too.

"That's weird," one of them frowned. "It feels like a draft."

"Better get that checked out," Cloud said as he walked past, opening the door to his and Angeal's room.

As Sephiroth unlocked the door to his and Zack's room, he cast a observant glance around the space. It was large, with mostly red and brown furnishings. There was a fireplace across from the main couch, a coffee table, and various assorted outdoors magazines scattered on it and other tables in the room. A door led to the separate bedroom, which Zack promptly thrust open as soon as he set down his suitcase.

"Ah! Now this is the life," he declared, going inside and flopping across one of the beds. "Too bad we really can't be here on vacation."

Sephiroth shook his head in amusement. "Maybe if we find out there isn't anything crooked going on, we can come back sometime," he said.

Zack placed his hands behind his head. "What if there is, though?" he frowned. "The place'd have to be shut down. Unless . . ." He gave a mischievous grin. "Some rich people came along and bought it. . . ."

Sephiroth just grunted. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," he said.

"Aww, Seph. . . ." But Zack sighed, growing serious. "Linda and Dave have been poking around up here for weeks and they haven't found anything. At least not those glasses or Del Vinci. Maybe this really is a wild goose chase."

"For once I'm hoping Gunju will prove himself useful," Sephiroth said. "If Del Vinci or any captives are here, he should be able to find them without them noticing."

Zack sat up. "And then there's Vivalene, too," he said. "She skipped off somewhere. If she's Del Vinci's rival, maybe she'll show up here! We could end up right in the middle of a gang war!"

"Aren't we already in the middle of it?" Sephiroth returned. He turned, his hair swishing with the sudden movement. "Let's go. We have a lot of ground to cover."

Zack hopped off the bed, the frame audibly scratching the wall behind it as he did. But he only gave it a cursory glance. "While Gunju pokes through all the rooms, we can check the hallways and everywhere else!" he declared. "Including the rec rooms and the dining rooms! And we could fix it so we hit the dining room at lunchtime."

"When everyone else will be in there?" Sephiroth said, his expression deadpan.

"It'd be a good chance to see if we recognize anyone," Zack said. "Plus, a chance to get some more energy to continue looking!"

"Sometimes you have a one-track mind," Sephiroth said. "We ate breakfast and you're thinking about lunch."

"Breakfast was a long time ago now," Zack protested as they went into the corridor.

Sephiroth did not reply. But for a moment there was the faintest trace of a smirk.

****

It was an exhausted and discouraged group that reconvened in the dining room for lunch. They had split into several groups to cover the entire building, but nothing had been discovered---no secret panels, no Del Vinci, and certainly no Jessie Thorton. Nothing even vaguely resembling diamond rose glasses or their stolen crates had been recovered, either.

Zack slumped into a chair at a corner table. "I am so beat," he said, unable to control a yawn as he grabbed a menu. "This is an amazing place. Vending machines! Table-top tennis and ping-pong! Indoor swimming pools! Skiing! Snowboarding! . . . But nothing that we're trying to find."

"Everything seems on the up-and-up," Sephiroth agreed, idly looking at a menu as well. He peered over the top of it, watching other people file into the room.

Cloud collapsed next to Zack. "This place is nuts," he muttered. "You could get lost in here." He rubbed his eyes. "Too bad Del Vinci wouldn't."

"Then we could get lost with him," Zack said. He stared at the food listings, his mouth beginning to water.

Angeal regarded him in amusement. "Why don't you try a little bit of everything?" he suggested. "You probably have room for it."

"Angeal, that's brilliant!" Zack exclaimed. "Waitress!" He waved, seeing a waitress two tables away.

Angeal shook his head, looking over at Sephiroth. "I didn't think he'd really take it seriously," he said.

"Zack always takes food seriously," Sephiroth said.

"And I should know that by now," Angeal remarked.

They all watched as the waitress approached. Dark red hair, blue eyes. . . . Vincent's eyes narrowed just slightly. She was the same person he had seen at Ambrogio's last night.

Now she gave no indication that she remembered him. "What can I get you?" she asked, looking from Zack to the others at the table. She set her pad on the smooth surface, stiffly holding a pen in her right hand.

"Some of everything!" Zack announced.

She stared at him. "Are you serious?" she asked.

"Believe me, he's serious," Angeal said.

She took down everyone else's orders, scribbling them on her pad as she went around the table. When she came to Vincent, he just looked at her coldly.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again," he said.

She frowned. "Were we supposed to have met?" she replied, sounding genuinely confused.

"You were at Ambrogio's last night," Vincent said.

Now all eyes at the table were focused on the two of them. But the waitress just shook her head.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," she said. "You must have me mixed up with someone else." She tapped the pad. "Your order?"

He gave his order in a flat tone, whereupon she took up the pad and crossed to the next table, where Dalton, Azazel, Linda, and Dave were sitting.

Vincent crossed his arms as he watched her. Zack leaned across the table.

"Okay," he said. "Since she's here, we know something's not right."

"Unfortunately, we've only added more questions to the mystery," Vincent said.

"And leaning over the table is bad manners," Angeal said. "Down, puppy." He pulled on the back of Zack's shirt.

Cloud very unwisely had just picked up a glass of ice water and started drinking the contents. Now he nearly spit them out. "'Puppy'?" he repeated.

Zack plopped back on the chair. "It's an old joke," he grinned.

****

Zack gave a contented yet weary sigh as he fell back on his bed after removing his boots at the bedroom door. Lunch had been fantastic. That was the contented part. But the mystery being such a tangled mess . . . that was the weary part.

Maybe they really were off-track with this place. Maybe it did not have anything to do with the Del Vinci stuff. But on the other hand . . . there was that suspicious waitress. And her acting like she did not remember Vincent really was weird. Something was surely going on with that angle.

The headboard scraped against the wall as Zack shifted position. He frowned. That was going to get annoying quick. He had better move the bed out enough that it would not happen any more.

He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he stood. Then he crouched, pushing the bed to the side before hurrying to the other side to do likewise. There, now he had pushed it a few inches away from the wall. He smirked in triumph before plopping on the mattress again. But there was also the matter of the damage that had been caused. . . .

"Oops," he said, staring at the visible mark on the wall. Well, it was not his fault; it was the fault of whoever had put the bed so close. But he might get blamed anyway. He reached out, touching the scrape. Several layers of paint were chipped.

"Not cool," he decided.

How thick was the wall, anyway? He rapped on it out of curiosity. The sound echoed hollowly, prompting him to freeze in disbelief. Was it possible? Was there some kind of secret opening behind there?

He slid closer to the wall, knocking on it from all directions. Cloud and Angeal were in the next room over, and if they were in it they would probably hear and wonder whatever. But no one came in to ask about the noise.

He jumped off the bed, pushing it out further in order to wedge himself in the space between it and the wall. Then he continued banging on the wall until he had reached the floor. But it was still staying firm.

"Nothing," he said in frustration. "Maybe I'm having a pipedream." He stood up, frowning at the stubborn wall.

Wait. . . . That outline of a door had not been there before! Maybe he was on the right track after all. Something had definitely been jarred free.

He hopped back on the bed. "Well, there's just one place left to check," he decided, standing up on the mattress and tapping around the top part of the outline.

It creaked, opening with an abrupt movement that almost sent Zack tumbling over the headboard and onto the hard floor inside the space. Instead he yelped, rocking back just in time as the wall clicked into its new position.

"Ha! Chalk that up for the ol' Zack," he grinned, scrambling off the bed and over to the hole. What was this place? It looked like a big closet. And . . . hey, faint voices were coming from the left side, where there should not be anything else. Zack stepped into the space and over to the left wall, pressing his ear against it.

"But Vifa, Del Vinci is gonna find out you're here," an unfamiliar, accented voice was saying.

"'Vifa'?" Zack muttered. "What the heck kind of a name is that?"

He stiffened at the next voice.

"Maybe he will," Vivalene purred. "It's really of no consequence if he does. In fact, let him find out. I'm looking forward to him discovering that I've infiltrated his precious fortress." She laughed. "Playing a lowly waitress is nothing when you consider what we'll gain."

"Vivalene!" Zack exclaimed under his breath. "_She's_ the waitress, just like Vincent wondered!"

At that moment the floor creaked. He froze, whirling to look. Sephiroth was peering into the space, an eyebrow raised.

"What is this?" he asked. He had lagged behind Zack after lunch, taking another look around the downstairs area. He had even investigated several knick-knack cabinets to see whether the fabled diamond rose glasses had been hidden in plain sight. Not that he particularly cared about the glasses, but if they were here, then maybe it would give some encouragement that coming here had not been in vain.

"Nevermind that, Seph," Zack told him, keeping his voice low. "Come over here! Vivalene's here, alright. She's talking to some guy!"

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. Immediately he went over to the wall, falling silent as the conversation continued.

"Of course, I'll have some of the best gems out of the shipment go to you," she said. "You've been such a great help."

"Really? Gee, Vifa . . . hearin' you say that is the best reward you could give me."

Zack rolled his eyes. Who the heck was this guy?! And how much of an idiot was he? Even Seph looked disgusted.

Vivalene chuckled. "Nevertheless, darling, you will receive some of the gems too," she said. She sighed. "Now if we could only capture that brat. . . ."

"Well, that's not my department." The male voice sounded nervous.

"Oh, of course not, darling. I'm just berating my henchmen's bad luck," Vivalene said. "She's the key to the whole Thorton fortune. Really, though! She's such a fool. Thinking she could deceive me, or anyone else, with her amateur disguise."

Zack stared. Who was the she? Julieanna? And what disguise?

"You'll catch her, Vifa," the guy said. "Meanwhile, what should I do?"

"Keep watch, like you have been," Vivalene said. "I'll go back out there and wait tables. By the way, have you heard about Latham?"

"Uh, nope, don't think so," was the reply.

"He was poisoned," Vivalene purred.

Silence. "Poisoned?! Are you serious?"

"Naturally. I'm the one who saw to it. Of course, he didn't even think of me. He kept blaming Gackt."

". . . Gackt? The singer?"

"Oh no, just someone calling himself that," Vivalene said. "Though he actually does have an uncanny resemblance to the real Gackt. . . . But anyway! We'll meet back here in an hour."

"Right."

All fell silent in the corridor beyond the secret room. Sephiroth frowned, looking to Zack.

"How did you find this?" he asked.

"Oh, it's a long story," Zack said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It all started because of the wall getting scraped by the bed!"

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yep!" Zack gestured at the room. "And then I ended up in here!" He placed a hand on the left wall. "We should try seeing if there's another panel that'll open up to the place where they were talking!"

Sephiroth nodded, moving his hands over the wall. "And you should call the ranger station to find out if the child is still safe," he said.

Zack blinked. "Sure," he said. "But they wouldn't have already found him there, would they?!"

"It's doubtful," Sephiroth said. "In any case, they won't find 'him' at all."

What? Seph was not making any sense! Zack's hands went to his hips. "Seph, what are you talking about?!" he said in disbelief. "Why won't they find him?!"

Sephiroth sighed. "There have been hints all along the way, but I haven't known whether to believe them," he admitted. "Yet it all fits. And Vivalene just confirmed my suspicions.

"Oliver isn't an Oliver, Zack."

Now Zack's mouth dropped open. "Huh?!"

Sephiroth turned to look at the younger man. "Oliver is a she," he explained. "Oliver is Julieanna."


End file.
